The Art of Isolation
by Forbiddensoul562
Summary: This was a mistake. He was a mistake. Michael was never supposed to happen, and Near is willing to go to desperate measures to make sure nobody knows about it. But Mello isn't willing to let Near throw their child away quite so easily. Mpreg, MxN.
1. Prologue

A/N: Yes, yes, I know what all of you are thinking. 'Why are you posting ANOTHER' story when you have two others that aren't done yet? Because I'm stupid, that's why! Haha, no... Actually it's because I was talking with a good friend of mine, Belletrist Word Salad, about what Near would be like if he was pregnant. After a few hours of talking I had all of this story in mind and I just couldn't let it go. She came up with her own version as well, so be on the lookout for that! It's a lot different from this one, and it's sure to be good! Anyway, let me know what you think. Also, thanks to Lumorai for the awesome edit job, as usual. Gotta love my beta-muse!

I know a lot of people don't like mpreg stories, but I promise you this is not the traditional method of doing one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>: Prologue

Near couldn't remember how many times he'd been in this office as a child. A good number, he knew for sure. once for an introduction to Wammy's, a few to be commended on his high marks, a couple on account of Mello, once for when Mello left, and one last time for when he himself left. Near found himself trying to count the instances on his fingers, giving up after counting fifteen or so visits.

Through those times, Near had always believed Roger's office dwelled in a completely separate universe away from the Earth lying in wait just outside the door. The room existed in its own world, completely untouched by the passage of time. Back then, it was the only thing that made sense to explain why nothing in that office changed; it was frozen in time.

And for some reason, despite everything in his rational mind, Near still held on to that childish belief to this very moment, many years having passed by since he had come to the conclusion.

Maybe it was those childish thoughts and moments that allowed him to retain his sanity in a world so devoid of any. He couldn't imagine having to face the cruel outside world without the safety of his childish mind to always rely on.

His dark eyes slipped up, locking firmly on Roger in front of him to keep his eyes off Rester and the bundle in his arms. The thought made him tense up. This was supposed to go over smoothly and relatively painless. He should've known Roger would make this more difficult than it had to be.

"Are you going to take it or not?" Near finally asked seriously, his eyes never leaving Roger's face. In the back of his mind he began making note of his options, should Roger gave him an absolute no from Wammy's. As much as he hated to say it, this was his only option right now. He didn't trust anywhere else with this.

If Roger said no… he didn't know what he would do. Where he would go to dispose of this problem…this accident.

"'It'?" Roger asked, his furry brows meshing together in confusion as old eyes looked up from his hands to Near. "Near… how can you come here and ask this of me? We, at Wammy's, are legally unable to accept-."

"I know the law," Near retorted, cutting him off. "Considering the circumstances, however, I feel it necessary that we bend the law for a moment. It is, after all, in everyone's best interest," he explained, looking away momentarily to begin spinning a lock of white hair.

"How can you consider this to be the best idea, Near? What do you expect us to do, here?" he asked seriously, his tone as patronizing as if he was talking to a child. In a sense, any orphan that grew up in Wammy's always remained a child in Roger's eyes. Perhaps it was just a part of growing old.

"I expect you to do the same thing you did for myself, and every other orphan that's ever resided here. That is all. Nothing more, and nothing less. If all else fails, look at it as a personal favor to assuage your conscience."

"Near, I cannot-"

"Then I have no choice but to place it somewhere else."

Roger was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking from Near to Rester, who sat in the other chair beside him, his eyes finally resting on the bundle resting in the large man's arms. Tired eyes moved back to the orphan, in a single moment remembering the day Near had arrived at Wammy's. It seemed like only yesterday. And now he was asking _this_ of him…

"Where else could you place him?"

"I have yet to figure that out. If you do not do this, then what could possibly become my successor someday would slip away into the world. And we'll never know what could've been." Near said quietly, realistically. There was a pang in him at the thought, but he pushed it aside, having to continuously remind himself that this was for the best. He had to do this. The situation didn't leave him any other choice.

Roger sighed, "I can't…"

"You can. You just refused. For what reason?"

"This is something you must deal with between the two of you! The mother and you must raise him, since you've gotten yourself into this situation. He is not an orphan. It's more important to ensure a sense of family than to ensure a successor."

Near cringed at the word 'mother', but held back as much as possible, "You are well aware of the fact that I am now acting as L. As such, I do not believe it would be safe for it to be at such a risk. Do you disagree?" His eyes flicked back to Roger, blank yet holding all the seriousness in the world.

"No…" Roger finally responded.

"Then what more is keeping you from doing this for me?"

Roger was quiet, placing his chin on his hands and closing his eyes a moment as he weighed his options. Near _was_ L. How could he say no when he was thinking rationally about the situation. He hated to admit it, but Near was right. There was no other better option.

"Alright, we'll take him." Roger finally said, quietly.

Near nodded, "I knew you would see things my way." He said, satisfied, and beginning to stand up at the same time Rester did beside him. Keeping his eyes to the floor, he still saw out of the corner of his eyes as his right-hand man handed over the bundle to Roger.

Roger's voice stopped him, "Would you like a moment to say goodbye, for now?" His voice was quiet, and calm.

"That won't be necessary. I know it is in good hands." He had to force himself to remember that this was for the best. That he was doing the right things. All the things he was feeling meant nothing, he had to remind himself.

"Well… who is the child's mother? Where is she? What is his name?" Roger continued to call after him.

Near bit his tongue, having hoped he could have escaped this moment without having to admit what'd happened, or create those ties. He'd done so well thus far keeping himself detached and separate from the child. Until now…

He sighed. Near had known, deep down, that Roger would have never let him go without asking such questions. It was, after all, human nature to be curious about such phenomena.

Looking back from the doorknob, Near took a deep breath. "Call him Michael," Near responded simply. "And if you must know, Mello is the father. As such, I request that Michael's presence be kept from Mello as effectively as possible. It goes without saying what could possibly happen if it falls into the wrong hands, Roger." Near turned the doorknob and vanished into the dark hallway, Rester following in tow.

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><p>AN: I apologize that this chapter was so short, but I really just needed to get things started and set up for the rest of things. I'll attempt to make the next chapters longer. Also, I'd like to address the 'it' fact before I get hordes of reviews asking about it. _Yes, _Near meant to call him that. He's very detached from his child right now, and that'll be shown and explained in later chapters. Just to clear that up. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	2. Introductions

A/N: Well here is chapter two! Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews that you left for chapter one. I was kinda worried about what kind of criticism it was going to get, but I'm glad that you guys enjoyed it! Hm... what to say here... Well... I can't remember. Anyway, thanks again for all the reviews, and please keep them coming. I don't base whether I upload or not based off reviews, but it does make me feel better about the quality of the work that I'm putting up here for everyone. I very much appreciate it. Speaking of appreciation, I also appreciate Belletrist Word Salad for talking me through so much of this all the time, and keeping me inspired, and giving me great ideas to make this better! And I appreciate the work of Lumorai for putting up with my bullshit time limits when it comes to edit jobs. Sorry for having to threaten to post this un-edited, my dear, but desperate times, love...

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or anything in this story.

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><p><span>Chapter 2:<span> Introductions

There was a part of Mello that couldn't believe what he was doing, or that any of this was happening; he couldn't believe he was actually back in this damn country. After he'd left the institution, he'd sworn he would never return there, no matter what happened or how hard he fell in the end, and yet here he was, walking the familiar empty path towards the place he'd called his home for so long.

Perhaps in some way it still was his home, if he was going to go so far as to attach such a sentimental word to the place, but at that moment it was the target in his line of fire. At any moment he felt like he would snap and his anger about this entire situation would get the best of him and something would end up destroyed. However, this entire situation was precarious; he couldn't let himself take the impulsive route. He had to think things over and plan his attack carefully if he was to have any hope at all of resolving this situation.

His fists clenched tight in his pockets at just the thought of everything Near was forcing him to deal with. Blue eyes narrowed on the space in front of him and for a split second he was transported back to that moment, which was still alive, and breathing fires of rage within him. All of this had transpired so quickly he hadn't fully had the time to think about what he was doing, or what effects it would have.

For the first time in his life it felt as though the roles had switched, and suddenly it was Mello who had to clean up his rival's incompetent shambles.

He took a deep breath as the memory of himself at the SPK flashed before his eyes, unable to let him move past what he had done. The sick sound of his fists hitting flesh vibrated between his ears; the sensation and the metallic smell of the blood which hit Mello's skin still felt as fresh and present no matter how many times he'd washed his hands. The following was what made the blood run cold in his veins. The conversation… the words he'd screamed in frustration rang in his head, never fully leaving his side.

_"How could you do this to me!"_ He heard himself scream, the pain flowing from behind the walled up dam Mello'd tried to hold it all behind. But this level of betrayal had been too much.

_"It was for the best, Mello! It would be foolish to have taken any other course of action!"_ Near had tried to tell him from where Mello had thrown him to the floor. There was a steady stream of blood down his face and staining his white hair from the strikes the blonde had thrown at him. Dark gray eyes watched him with a dexterously hidden level of fear at the power Mello suddenly held over him, but in that same instant the only thing Mello could see was how desperately Near was trying to convince him and therefore justify his actions.

But Mello was altogether consumed and blinded by his frenzied emotions. _"That wasn't your decision to make! You had no right, Near! None! I deserved a say! How could you do this to me!"_

_"I did what objectively needed to be done! I knew you would never be able to realize that, which is why I found it best to not include you in this. You can't change this now, Mello!"_ In a singular moment Near took back the control which had been stolen by Mello's outburst and instantly those endless eyes were filled with daring. Daring Mello to go, daring him to try and change what he'd already done so many years ago, and in his own way consciously enticing the blonde to hit him again.

Perhaps Near had been ready for the physical abuse which Mello put him through, Mello mused in hindsight. Perhaps Near knew he deserved it.

Mello shook the memory away from his mind with a sigh. _'Like hell there's nothing I can do.'_ He thought to himself as he finally reached the familiar gates that acted as a barricade between Wammy's and the rest of the world. Matt had mentioned that the place hadn't changed, but even the offhanded comment hadn't prepared him for the surge of memories just the building's façade brought with it. For a brief moment he remembered what it'd felt like when he left, looking back over his shoulder at the cold, unforgiving building that'd harbored both his greatest feats, and his lowest failures. He'd vowed that he would never return to this place; the thing which was the reason for his every nightmare. And yet…

_'How could you overlook this, Near?'_ Mello considered, slipping through the gate with ease and continuing up the path. _'If you really hadn't wanted anyone to know about this, you wouldn't have made such a simple mistake as not clearing up all the loose ends before leaving him at Wammy's. You care too much about the succession of L for your own good.'_

He smirked for a moment at the thought that Near, like this institution, never really changed. But almost as quickly as the expression had appeared it died away as the realization of the nature behind his return once again weighed on his shoulders. _'Why would you hide him from me for four years and then not deny it when I accused you? You could've denied everything, Near. You knew I didn't have any proof that I knew anything about him, and you knew you didn't have proof as to whether it had actually happened or not. Did you want me to do this?'_ Again he had to shake his mind of the thoughts before the weight of them completely consumed him. He had to remind himself that he had a goal, here, and that he wasn't going to get anywhere close to it so long as he let Near mess with his every thought.

Near clearly hadn't once taken Mello into consideration when he had made the decision to abandon their child; more than likely because he'd known that this was just how Mello would react. But that didn't justify his actions at all, either, and now Mello had every intention of fixing the mistake which had been done four years ago.

Near might've found it easy to give up their child, but Mello just couldn't let Near get his way by letting that happen. Wammy's House was their home only because they had had nowhere else to go and no other choice. But history didn't need to repeat itself now; it didn't have to be that way for his kid. Mello refused to let his kid go through the same hell he'd endured within the same walls.

He stopped just outside the front door of the orphanage, feeling himself frozen in place –in that moment completely unsure what the proper protocol was for a situation like this, whether he should just walk in or if he was expected to knock first. Was he still accepted in this place, or had they too turned their back on him when he'd walked out all those years ago?

Taking in another deep breath which held the air of his false sense of superior bravado, he decided that he didn't care one way or another. It wasn't in his nature to care what others thought of him or his actions anyway, thus barging right on in seemed completely within his right to do.

The inside, much like the outside, had remained unchanged, just as he'd been previously informed. The only noticeable different was that the place now seemed much quieter than he remembered it ever being when he was a kid. Though, perhaps everyone was in classes now, or perhaps this was just how quiet the atmosphere in Wammy's was when hellions like himself weren't there to make a ruckus out of everything.

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like an outsider within this place which used to be his only home. The place now felt as though, in a way, it had in moved on from him and his kind and that he wasn't fit to be within these walls now that he was no longer technically in the race to get L's title. Pushing it down, he proceeded through the building in the same familiar path he'd taken so many times towards Roger's office.

If he had any other option, he would've just found his child and taken him with him. But that was just it; he _didn't_ have any other choice but forcing confrontation. Near had stubbornly asserted that he knew nothing of their child past confirming the fact that it was, indeed, a boy, but beyond that he either really knew nothing about him, or simply didn't want to too Mello. The blonde found the very notion of Near not knowing unbelievable, and attributed it instead to his rival simply lying in order to make things that much more difficult for him. But at the same time there was also the ultimately isolationist quality Near held himself in which also made the idea of him knowing nothing about the boy seemingly more believable.

Reaching the familiar door of Roger's office, Mello again found himself pausing a moment as his childhood memories once again assaulted him with thoughts and feelings he hadn't given any weight to in so many years. The office door no longer seemed quite as grand and overbearing as it once had when he would be called there to be punished for any number of tricks he had pulled, or kids he'd made cry.

He couldn't help a small grin. _'Good times.'_ He thought, _'Easier times…'_

Finally, though, he forced himself to reach out and take the door handle, opening it without any consideration of whether Roger would even be in or not.

As the door swung open his blue eyes instantly fell upon the said old man sitting behind his desk with an open book lying in front of him. Brown eyes moved up to see whom had entered, though the moment they rested on Mello they didn't widen with surprise or shock as the blonde had imagined they would at seeing him having returned after all that time.

"I was wondering when I might see you again, Mello." Roger said, sitting back and closing his book as Mello stepped in and closed the door behind him.

His blue eyes narrowed on the older man, "You know what I came here for, Roger." He stepped forward, consciously having to hold himself back from pulling any sort of drastic action. If there was anyone who knew Mello better than the other two successors, it was Roger. The man knew what angered Mello, and what disheartened him. Even as a child drastic actions had never really seemed to fluster Roger, and Mello doubted it would be quite the same now.

"Yes, I do." Roger stated, stringing his old, wrinkled fingers together on top of the desk. "To be quite honest, I'm surprised you didn't show up a long time ago. I figured the moment you caught word of what Near did with your son then you'd be here within a day or so."

Mello's world suddenly froze as suddenly all his questions and doubts were set into stone. _'So I do have a son…'_ The impossibility behind the statements which came from his best friend and his rival hadn't done anything but set the idea in his mind that somehow he actually did have a son. Neither parties had given him enough to prove one way or another whether it was true or not. But as strange as it sounded even to him, Mello trusted Roger's word. He swallowed down the rising level of anger and hate he had towards Near in that second as it was confirmed how long Near had been lying to him.

"I _did_ come the moment I found out." The blond stated, keeping his words few and tight.

Roger's brow knit together in confusion, but he remained quiet to allow Mello the opportunity to tell him exactly what had been going on between the two childhood rivals. Now that they were out in the world, it was harder for Roger to keep up with what was going on between them, and it'd be a lie to say he didn't worry about them, sometimes. It was obvious he had never expected this sort of situation from the two of them, even in the best of scenarios. Even Mello was interested in how he and Near had gotten to this point. Somehow everything just seemed like a blur now between the lingering states of what had been and what had come to be.

Mello sighed, "Near wasn't the one who told me about him," he explained, "Near didn't tell me anything until the other day, and even then I had to drag it out of him." The frustration which had been brewing within the blonde finally had a means to escape, and he let it, feeling as though if he didn't he might finally explode in a fit of either grief or anger. "He refused to tell me anything about him! He just said he'd 'taken care of it'. It's not surprising Near brought him here of all places but the twit never bothered to consult _me_ first! About anything! If I had known any of this at the time I wouldn't have agreed to this then, and I don't agree with it now."

Mello stepped forward, placing both hands carefully upon the top of Roger's desk, his eyes aflame with unladed anger. "I want him. Now."

Roger was unfazed by Mello's temper as he easily responded, "I'm not surprised he couldn't tell you anything, Mello. Near did seem rather removed when he brought him here four years ago."

"What do you mean?" Mello asked, as his mind switched gears and began trying to get a gauge on what the situation had been and what exactly had been going through Near's head at the time. Roger could judge Near's behavior however he wanted, but no one knew the underlying complexities of the genius like Mello did.

"Near's always been quite distant from his surroundings, but this was much more than I've ever seen of him. I feared for what Near might do if I didn't give in and take the child in; he was quite adamant about getting rid of him no matter the strings he needed to pull to do so. He was quite disassociated physically from it all. His second in-command held the child, and Near never once looked at him, or even acknowledged him as being a human being, referring to him as 'it' for the most part."

Mello shuddered at what Roger told him. Mello had seen Near in ways he never would have been able to imagine before they both left Wammy's. He knew Near was cold and distant, but he was also passionate and sensitive. This was a whole new level of robotic which Mello would have never thought possible. No, even then it wasn't possible. There was something else going on within him that Roger hadn't been able to read. "Why didn't Near want him?" He asked, though he already knew how Near's every thought worked and knew the disconcerting reasoning behind it all. He needed to hear it from someone else, someone who didn't have an agenda to run.

"As he is considered L now, Near thought it was in the child's best interest to remain here in order to keep from putting himself or others at risk from anyone who might target L." Roger shrugged, "I didn't exactly agree with his reasoning, but in the end he left me no other choice."

Mello sighed heavily taking his hands off the desk and stepping back. He had figured as much as this from his rival. But now he wasn't quite sure what to think, but what he did know was that everything Near had done by keeping him out of the picture was wrong on every level and needed to be resolved. "I'm taking my son."

Roger shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that."

Mello stopped instantly, "What?" He asked slowly, eyes focusing in on Roger as his target.

Roger exhaled heavily, his tired eyes closing for a moment, as if bracing himself for the fury of opposition he knew was going to ensue from the former Wammy's orphan. He knew from so many personal experiences what happened when Mello didn't get his way, and this would definitely be one to add to the list. "When Near put him under our care four years ago, I swore to him that I would not allow you to take custody of the boy."

"What?!" Mello practically screamed. "Roger come off it! You're just going to take that from him? You know that raising a kid here is _not_ in their best interest when they have living relatives! He's _my_ son, I deserve to have him! Why does Near's demands get to take precedence over common sense? Because he's _L_? Do you really let the title of L override your morals, Roger!"

Roger took every verbal blow in stride, hardly seeming to be struck by any of it considering how conditioned he was to Mello lashing out, and one way or another he had been prepared himself for this sort of reaction all four years -when Mello would finally show up after having traveled so far, just to be denied the one thing he had come here for.

"No, it doesn't, but Near's logic is correct. It is in both of their interests that he remains unknown to the rest of the world." Roger explained.

"So you think that by locking him here and letting him live in a _lie_ that somehow you're actually sparring him and doing what's _best_?! Roger, I am about as far from being L as I've ever been, what could I possibly do?" He felt his heart clench with grief at having to put his own defeat to words, but within the grand scheme of things, he needed to use it to get even remotely closer to getting what he wanted. What he _needed._

Roger was quiet for a long moment in careful consideration of the points Mello rose. "You have ties to L, Mello. It's a threat." He exhaled heavily. "I do not agree with Near's demand. If I could, Mello, I would indeed give him to you, because I _do_ believe every child deserves a family. However, I do not think that _you_, Mello, are capable of providing that stable family for him that he needs." His brown eyes slipped open and locked onto Mello.

The said blonde had to take a step back at Roger's blatant honesty towards not trusting him with his own child. His eyes narrowed, knowing he had to remain firm if he was ever going to get his way. "What basis do you have for that assumption, Roger?" He asked calmly, venomously. "What I've done as a _child_? You know _nothing_ of what I-"

"You're absolutely correct, I don't know anything of what you are today, Mello." Roger interrupted. "I do not know where you've been, what you've done to get by, I don't know the sort of living conditions you possess. I know absolutely nothing about what's been going on between you and Near, either. What basis _do_ I have to think you have what it takes to give him what he needs and keep him safe?"

Mello was quiet for a long moment, letting his mind play over the memories between Near and himself in his mind. Memories of nights they'd shared in hours of conversation based only off their past -because it seemed to be the only thing they could ever agree on without a fight. So many nights of building endless amounts of new ground on top of a rocky foundation of the competition and rivalry Mello had forced upon them. Breaking it all down within the same night, not out of spite or hatred, but because they knew they could, and that they knew the way each of the destroyed pieces fit together. There'd been so many moments of silence between them where they lacked the words or emotions left to convey how they were feeling to the other. It was those moments of silence which were the absolute loudest between them.

"You no longer have a right to know what goes on between Near and I." He stated, feeling like the sole defender to a dynamic he couldn't even put words to. "The fact of the matter is instead the question of what basis do you have _not_ to trust me with my son? Right now I have done nothing to show that I am incapable. Near robbed me of any chance to know anything of my child, and decided his fate before I even knew he existed. As far as I'm concerned, I'm owed that time back. But I can't have it! The least you can do, Roger, is allow me the chance to have my son so I can prove that Near made the wrong decision!"

The blonde stepped closer to the desk again, his careful stare showing the older man both conveying the truth of the matter as well as the fact that, if he did not give Mello what he wanted, the blonde fully intended on taking it for himself -whether he liked it or not. "Until I give you a reason to doubt my ability to take care of my own son, you _will_ let me raise him." His voice was sickeningly calm and quiet.

Roger was quiet for a long moment, watching Mello before finally sighing, "At least tell me what's been going on, Mello. I watch the news about the Kira case, but with the way the news has been swayed in favor of him, it's hard to keep up on progress."

Mello stepped back, glaring down at him, the bitter taste of failure flooding his mouth. "You mean what's _Near_ been doing against Kira. Well sorry, Roger, but you're talking to the wrong person." No matter what he did, Near would always the first one on everyone's mind. It sickened him sometimes.

Surprisingly, Roger shook his head, "No. To be completely honest, what I meant was… what's happening between the two of you? _How_ did that happen? How did you get to the point of bringing a child into this?" He paused a moment, "But more importantly," One hand reached out towards the left side of Mello. He knew instantly what he was motioning to, and he felt himself clamming up at the thought, "I'd like to know how _that_ occurred."

He hated that disgusting scar which marred his face after the accident in his headquarters in Los Angeles; he hated that not only had he allowed such a crucial mistake to occur, but now he was forced to wear it for the world to see. He hated himself so much for it, but he hated its very existence even more so when _anyone_ pointed it out.

"_That_," He started firmly, leaving no room for argument, "Is none of your business, and has nothing to do with my ability to handle a kid."

"You mean to tell me that even though you somehow allowed _that_ to occur to yourself, that you could keep that mistake from happening to a child? Mello your argument is not faring well for your favor at the moment."

"I'm not irresponsible, Roger, despite whatever any of you probably think. I don't care what happens to me in order to get what I want," His eyes diverted away a moment, "which is proof enough through this mark." Blue eyes flicked back to him, "But the well-being of my own flesh and blood is something completely different. I'd sooner die than allow something to happen to him."

"How can you say such strong words towards your son who you've never met?"

Mello gave a small, but confident smirk, "Because he _is_ my son. Knowing him or not doesn't change the fact that we're ultimately still one and the same, and that I need to protect him at any cost."

Roger thought for a long moment, a tense silence building within the office; broken only by the sound of the ticking clock hanging on the wall. Mello bit his tongue, keeping himself from just screaming that this was a waste of time and storming out. But that's exactly what it felt like; a lot of effort being put in for nothing in return.

But finally Roger's brown eyes moved up to him and he gave a small smile, standing up as he did so. "Alright, Mello. You win. I'll bring your son to you." As he stepped out from behind his desk, he stopped for another moment, "But, if I find out you somehow compromise his health or well-being I will not think twice about taking him away from you."

Mello glared at him for his gall to say such a thing. "As if I would." He shot venomously, but followed him out of the office none the less; back out into the familiar hallways of Wammy's.

This time there seemed to be just an ounce more life within the building now. He could hear noise from kids on the upper floors, and the sounds of play and chatter from within the different rooms. As they passed by the library Mello paused a moment to look inside, remembering all the sleepless nights he had spent over countless numbers books. All of it for nothing. As he watched the children inside do quite the same thing, he wondered for a moment if they knew anything of what they did.

He wondered if they knew anything of the new L. Of the old L. He wondered if they ever heard stories of the competition that had raged between the new L and himself. He wondered if they had been told the same stories he had heard and were filled with the equal desire to be L that his generation of orphans had. It felt odd, to him, to be looking in at this new generation –to be viewing the competition as an outsider instead of a participant.

Tearing his eyes away he continued after Roger back to the main entrance of Wammy's, where Roger cued him to wait. He huffed, but did as motioned, resuming satiating his interest in looking around from one room to another. For the first time since any of this had started he felt nervousness begin to build up within his chest and slowly spread throughout the rest of his body.

A part of him knew he should've expected this reaction, but at the same time, another part of him hadn't ever really believed that Roger would actually allow him this opportunity and so he hadn't given much thought to the actions that'd follow.

_'What am I supposed to do now?'_ He thought to himself. _'How am I going to be able to take care of him? I'm part of the mafia syndicate for God's sakes! That's no life for him to be in.'_ He bit his tongue and closed his eyes a moment, calming himself down and trying to reassure himself that he could do this. That he _had_ to do this. It wasn't fair for his son to think he had no family at all.

_'I'll think of something._' He reasoned. _'I'll figure something out to make ends meet…'_

"Mello." Came Roger's voice again, to which his eyes suddenly snapped open, his heart clenching as if he expected Roger to have read his every self-doubting thought. But the smile on the older man's face said the insecurities remained safely locked within his own mind.

Azure eyes travelled downwards and for the first time his eyes rested on the little four year old boy standing beside him, and instantly Mello's breath caught and stopped all together. The boy beside him looked up at him with confused, dark grey eyes that were so reminiscent of Near's, but were almost covered by short blonde hair that was much like Mello's own, though a much lighter shade. The boy's skin was pale, but was touched with just enough color to show he didn't stay inside nearly as much as Near always had as a kid.

"Mello, this is M, your son." Roger said, bringing him from his thoughts and memorizations of the boy in front of him. This was the first time seeing him, but it felt like he'd known him forever. Something instinctual in him unconsciously knew his own family, and in an instant he knew this wasn't some gag or some test rigged by Near. This was M… this was his son; his little boy.

Mello could only watch, speechless as M shifted a bit in place nervously, his eyes diverting for a moment before looking back at Mello and asking in a small meek voice, "Are you really my Daddy?"

In an instant all the demons of worry and other anxieties which had plagued Mello died away and left him consumed in the overwhelming feeling of love for the little boy in front of him. Coming back to this place hadn't been for nothing at all, and all the fighting with Roger had not been a waste of time. Near might've stolen the first four years of his child's life from him, but he'd be damned if he didn't find a way to fix all of that.

He couldn't help but smile lightly, "Yeah. Yeah, I am."

* * *

><p>AN: Well, what did you think? In a way, I guess a lot didn't happen here, but at the same time, it was pretty needed. Roger's going behind Near's back and against his word by giving Michael to Mello, and Mello's destroying Near's constructed plan of hiding Michael. Also, before anyone asks, I do know that I revealed Michael's name in the first chapter, but this is Wammy's... and I'm supposing that they would still give him an alias and introduce him by it. Trust me, it'll come up next chapter. I've already got it planned out. I would expect it to be out... maybe by the end of the week. We'll see. Anyway, please let me know what you think of this chapter! I definitely put a lot of effort into making it of good quality for you all.

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	3. Offer

A/N: Alright, this chapter took me a little longer than usual, because I really wasn't sure what I was going to do, exactly. I mean... I had a basic idea but until I know exactly how I want to execute an idea, I usually don't start it. Also, the first memory flashback is in this chapter! Hurray! I wrote it twice, though. Originally I made it a little further on in the timeline, then later decided that that wasn't a good idea and that I needed to set things up first before I began jumping around. So, the first couple are probably going to be in order. Or maybe the whole memory flashbacks will be in order. I'm not sure yet. We'll see as this continues, I guess. Anyway, let me know what you think, at the end!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael. He's mine.

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><p><span>Chapter 3:<span> Offer

_'Maybe this was a bad idea...'_ Mello found himself thinking with every passing moment, each time followed by a shake of the head to try and push the persistent thought from his thoughts. Though, with the silence that filled the train car, it didn't take long for the self-doubting thought to return.

After being released from Wammy's with M, his son, the only thing left to do was to get back to New York, where the Kira case was taking place. It was then that his every doubt began to fester within his mind. Once again he'd made an impulsive move that, as much as he hated to think it, was not for the best.

The Kira case… and his lifestyle… as he looked over to his son who was sitting next to him beside the window in the train car, swinging his legs off the side of the seat, all he could think was how wrong this had to be. What would he do if something happened to M? Where would he go? Back to Wammy's? His fists clenched at the mere thought of it.

Near was perfectly capable of taking care of M -perhaps more so than Mello himself, situations taken into consideration. It was selfish of him to just abandon M in an orphanage. Hate ran through his veins at the thought that Near could've done that to their own child. But almost instantly he was overcome with another thought, that instead chilled him to the bone.

What would Near do when he found out what Mello had done? Would he try to take M, to make sure whatever 'plan' he'd had before remained intact?

He forced himself to shake the thought from his mind, along with all the others. There was no reason for him to dwell on such a thought. Mello'd be damned if he let M be taken from him now.

That thought, however, led him to another. 'M'. His eyes moved over to his son, those dark eyes watching the outside move past them at record speeds. They looked so much like Near's, but there was a spark, a light, within them that he'd only seen in Near's a couple of times -though it seemed ever-present in the child's.

_''M' is my alias…'_ He thought. _'My letter, a privilege given to me because I held the second position. I wonder why that is his alias, though… What is his real name? Near would never be foolish enough to just name him M.'_

"What is your real name?" Mello suddenly asked, alerting M and bringing his attention over to him. Those large dark eyes met Mello's with wonder filled within them. He could see the inner debate within the child's mind, as if torn between what he'd been taught and his father's will.

His eyes traveled down, a twinge of sadness revealed in the grey eyes. "I'm not supposed to tell you…" M said simply. "That's what they told me back at Wammy's House, that I'm not supposed to say my name, cause'a people like Kira out there who might use it against me." He shrugged, "Whatever that means…"

Mello watched him curiously. That was, technically, the correct answer to his question, but the child was young and didn't understand the reasoning behind it. He didn't yet understand the magnitude of the place he'd just gotten out of -but how could anyone blame him? How could anyone expect a four year old to be able to understand the burden of competing to taken on someone's title?

"I'll tell you mine," Mello finally offered with a small smile. "Now that you're not in Wammy's anymore, you don't need to use the alias they gave you anymore, alright?" he told him. It felt odd to him to say not to use an alias, considering most of the people he'd ever known all went by one. But there was a difference between water and blood for a reason.

M's deep eyes moved back up to him expectantly, but didn't say a word. Like Near, he knew how to keep his silence when it was needed.

"My name's Mihael. But you'll call me Mello, alright?" He said, looking around out of sheer habit while he quietly spoke his true name. After so many years of going by an alias, voicing his own name sounded utterly separate from his identity, and in a sense wrong. Like a secret never meant to be spread to the general public.

He watched as M's eyes widened and he instantly pointed at himself, "That sounds like _my_ name! My name's Michael!" he said happily. "Did you name me after you, Daddy?" he asked, the light returning to his eyes, as if he was proud to know he was named after someone. Or perhaps proud to actually _know_ the person he was named after. After believing he was an orphan for his whole life, Mello could see how that would please the little boy.

Though he did have to sigh _'You would, Near…'_ he thought to his rival. Though it also again brought up the question he had of whether Near had placed Michael in Wammy's knowing that Mello would someday go to take him back. He shook his head, thinking there was no way Near could've planned that far ahead.

Even so, there was a small part of him that had an inkling of pride in his heart at the knowledge that this boy, even without Mello's request, was named after him. It was as if Near had, somehow, read his mind of what he'd dreamed might happen if he miraculously obtained a family somehow.

The idea of having a family being something he always allowed his mind to rest on since he himself was a child. It was something to fantasize over, as the life he'd been fated to live -competing to be the next L- did not allow for such luxuries. He remembered how he used to play through scenarios of what his life would be like if he could have a family, a house, and… overall just a normal life.

At the top of that list, he'd always wanted to have a first-born son named after him.

_'How did you know?'_ He silently asked Near.

"Daddy?" Michael asked, confused. "You didn't answer my question!" It was obvious he was growing impatient, though Mello couldn't blame him for wanting to know anything he could. "Did you name me after you?" He repeated.

Mello shook his head, "No, I didn't." He replied honestly, "But Near did."

Instantly, a new flame of wonder arose from within those dark grey eyes of Michael's; it was odd for Mello to see Near in them and imagine him with so much life. He wondered if Near would have that sort of look about him more if it hadn't been for Wammy's corrupting whatever life he _would've_ had, had life not dealt them such sacrificing cards.

"Near?" Michael sounded out the name carefully. "Who's that? Is that my Mama?" his eyes widened if beyond belief and he scooted closer to Mello. "Is my Mama still alive too, Daddy? Why isn't she here with you to get me?"

Mello was a bit taken aback, though he did allow a small smile at the child referring to Near as a 'she'. He could almost see the albino cringing now, if only he knew. Mello wondered if he _could_ know. However, he carefully patted Michael's head of soft blonde locks. "Yes, Near's your… Mother." It was hard for even _he_ to say, his mind still slowly settling upon the idea that Near had conceived a child of both their genes. "And still alive. But Near's very busy and can't really be around."

He sighed, wondered what exactly he was going to tell Michael. How was he going to tell his son that not only was his mother not a female, let alone anything remotely similar to the stereotype of what a mother should be, but that Mello and Near could barely even stand to be in the same room as each other? How could he tell this innocent little boy that not only had his 'mother' abandoned him so many years ago, but had kept Michael's existence from Mello up until this point? How could Mello tell Michael that Near didn't care for him in the slightest?

Michael pursed his lips momentarily, then turned away from Mello and drew one leg up closer to him, picking absentmindedly at the frayed ends on the bottom of his jeans. "Oh…" The young blonde said quietly.

_'He looks and behaves just like you, Near…'_ Mello thought to himself. _'How could you just throw that away? Do you not feel any sort of guilt from it? Did you not feel pride in his very existence?'_ Just the thought sent a jolt of sadness through Mello.

He had gone to Wammy's the moment he found out about Michael, and wanted more than anything to spare his son of the life he'd had. But more and more he was wondering if it was Michael who had already, in his four years of living, had lived a worse off existence than he did.

Michael been conceived between what could arguably be the two greatest living detectives of their age, but almost instantly had been thrown away as if he'd meant nothing at all. He'd entered childhood being told he had no family to speak of, and then Mello showed up to break that lie. However, he still had to live with the reality that his 'mother' didn't want anything to do with him, and his father barely knew how to take care of himself, let alone a little boy with the whole world at his fingertips.

Mello exhaled, reaching an arm out and pulling his son up against his side, grey surprised eyes looking up and meeting his smile. "Don't worry, you," he told him, "I'll talk to Near, but for now, we don't need your mother. It'll just be the two of us." He felt Michael relax against him; perhaps at the assurance that he had someone now to look after him and protect him.

Blue eyes looked up, to watch the landscape quickly move by them. It was a tranquil feeling to be here watching the world pass him by with the only family he had left. As his memories of years ago began to overtake him, he couldn't help but suddenly have no doubt that this was exactly what he was supposed to have done.

This is how it was supposed to be. Not a care in the world. Just the past left behind them, and the future laying ahead as great and expansive as the scenery that lay outside the train window.

Mello wasn't sure why the whole thing had happened; it was random and unexpected to say the least. But it had happened, and it was the thing that got everything moving in the direction their lives changed to. But perhaps it was a good thing that it had occurred…

The first time Mello saw Near have some initiative. Some emotion, even.

_'How could L do this?' Mello thought angrily as he ripped open a drawer from his dresser and ripped out some of his clothes from inside. All he had to take with him was a backpack, so he could only take the bare necessities. 'He was supposed to beat Kira! The competition can't be over yet! I haven't had enough time to beat Near!'  
><em>_  
>He felt tears well in his eyes in pure frustration at the situation. Not only was L dead, but the goal he'd been striving towards for so many years had suddenly been stolen up right before his eyes. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that this was actually happening.<em>

_Wiping away at the tears before they had a chance to fall, he pushed the hurt and betrayal from his mind. 'No! I don't need that stupid title! I don't need this stupid organization!' He told himself, going back to the drawers and taking more of his clothes out. 'I'll do it on my own. I'll beat Near myself, outside of this stupid institution.'_

_As if on cue, he heard the door to his shared bedroom open. "Go the fuck away, Matt! I told you, you can't stop me from going. And you can't come with me!" he yelled, his eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to let anger take over and block out the sadness that held his heart in a stranglehold._

_He heard the door slip closed quietly, and through the silence he felt the presence of someone else still in the room. He wasn't in the mood for this, and in an instant his fists clenched and he swung around. "What the fuck do you-…" he stopped mid-sentence._

_Near stood on the other side of the room, his hand resting on the doorknob. Dark grey eyes watched him carefully, those wheels turning on the inside of his head as if judging exactly what Mello's next move was going to be before Mello even know what it would be. He hated that gaze… like Near was reading him like an open book._

_"What do you want?" Mello asked venomously, his eyes narrowing on his target. "Come to rub the title in my face, hm?" There was a sudden foul taste of disgust that filled his mouth at the thought of putting Near with the L title in his mind made everything so much more real, and made him hate Near that much more._

_Near shook his head, "No, that's not it, Mello," he said. "I'm simply here to make you think before you jump into anything rash. To make sure this is what you want to do." One hand reached up to twirl a lock of snow white hair. "Not having anywhere to go will make competing with me difficult, don't you agree?" Dark eyes remained on Mello, as if whispering a silent secret to him that only the two of them would understand._

_"What's the point in competing with you anymore if there's no end goal?" Mello retorted, keeping his gaze locked on Near. He would not be the first one to break their stare. Just another little competition between them to fill the void between one's end and the other's beginning._

_"Because you can't be satisfied with not winning. Besides," It was finally Near who broke the stare, to let his eyes close a moment, "I know that it was not the title you were after. What you're after is to beat me, in whatever way you can. As such, the point still stands that you will not be satisfied until you achieve that."_

_Mello glared hard at him. "Well there's not much I can do to get to that point while staying here, now is there?" he shot back._

_"I'm not telling you to stay here, Mello. Far from it, actually. Things would not be nearly as interesting if you weren't constantly meddling in my affairs."_

_"Then tell me what the hell you're trying to say or get the fuck out of my room, Near! I'm not in the mood for your mind games! Stop treating me like one of your damn pawns!" Mello shouted, taking a daring step closer to his rival._

_Near's eyes slipped open, a small remnant of a smirk appeared across his features, "No, you're definitely not the pawn in my game, Mello. That's not nearly fitting enough for you. Something more suited for you might be… the queen."_

_"That's it…" Before he could stop himself he found himself rushing forward, grabbing Near by the front of his shirt; his fist raised up to hit him._

_"You're not giving me the time to tell you what I'm here for." Near said his piece so suddenly and effectively that he paused Mello before he could hit him with all his might -something he knew would release his pent up frustration._

_"Then say it before I beat your face in. I already told you, I'm not in the mood to play these games with you." As Near's smirk remained and he looked away, a hand reaching for his hair once more, and both realized the exact thought going through the albino's head. 'If that's the case, then you should not leave yourself open to them.' __Mello suddenly regretted letting Near stay here instead of just throwing him out to begin with._

_"You have nowhere to go, Mello," Near started, breaking Mello out of his thoughts and sparing Near for the moment. "Where will you go when you leave here?"_

_"Anywhere that's not here, Near. That's the point."_

_Near nodded, "I understand that you want to make yourself on your own, since you do not have the backing of the L title now. I understand your desire to be free of Wammy's. However, while you are searching for the way you are going to go about this, and even then…" He sighed and paused, obviously unsure of how to put his thoughts to words._

_Mello dropped Near suddenly, taking a step back and crossing his arms, curious now as to what Near was getting at. "Spit it out before I throw you out."_

_"__When I obtain a working base of operation, feel free to stay there if the need be.__ Use it as a hideout, or just a place to stay for a while." He shrugged. "I feel it important for you to know that there is an option available to you."_

_The blonde gave him a confused look, __Wondering why the sudden generosity from someone with normally about as much capacity for such actions as a brick wall._

_Before he could speak, Near cut him off, obviously seeing where Mello's thoughts were going. "Mello, you and I are only rivals because you make it so, and I indulge you in that because it keeps you driven, and makes things interesting. I, however, see us more as… team mates, both working towards the same goal but having different ideas of how to go about it."_

_Mello scoffed. "So you're telling me this because you see us as… team mates, in your screwed up mind, hm?"_

_Near nodded and said simply, "I do not dislike you half as much as you believe, Mello."_

_"Right…" Mello said, not giving his rival's words nearly the weight Near believed they should have. "Well, as generous as that is, Near, I doubt I'll be needing that offer. Honestly, I'd rather sleep on a London street in the middle of January than stay where you are."_

_Near shrugged, "Perhaps you will think differently once you're actually out on that London street. I am not doing this because I think it will persuade you to work with me. If you must, then consider me doing this as a favor from one childhood rival to another."_

_Mello huffed turning to walk away, "Whatever. You've said your piece. Now get out. I have to pack before Roger decides it's a good idea to try and talk me out of leaving."_

_Near nodded, but paused a moment, "Where are you planning on going, Mello?"_

_Mello shrugged, feeling a veil fall between the two of them, as if everything was left on the other side of it and for just a split second they could talk openly and easily without having to worry about mixed emotions getting in the way and contemplating everything, as they so often did. "I haven't decided yet. London, to start, to get some money. Then…" He trailed off, unable to bring himself to admit that he wasn't sure where he was going or what he was going to do._

_"America." Near said, causing Mello to look back, confused._

_"America is a safe distance from Kira, allowing for a counter-strike against him. There's no worry about him being able to get his hands on any record of you without it coming across suspicious." Near had obviously already thought it all out, Mello had to give him credit for that. The smirk appeared again. "Plus, that'll be where I am. And if you need to compete as much as you say you do, then I'm sure you'll want to be in relative proximity. It's not easy to have a rival from halfway across the world."_

_Mello glared at him. "America, then. I'll get money and go to America." He turned and started back for his bed, where his backpack lay open still; his head was spinning with all sorts of ideas and logistics of how possible it was going to be for him to actually get there. Somehow, though, he'd have to make it work._

_Near nodded once, then turned to leave. "Be careful, Mello."_

_Mello paused, biting his tongue momentarily before he could spout the first thing that came to his mind. Finally, he exhaled, "You do the same, Near." He said quietly, as if afraid their normal tendencies that were left out on the other side of the door would hear._

_There was silence where Mello couldn't bring himself to turn around towards Near and watch him leave. In a way, it felt like that would be the last time he saw his rival, despite how much he told himself it wouldn't be, or asked himself why he cared so much. Could the competition be that important to him?_

_When he heard the click of the door, he sighed, feeling the veil raising and his thoughts returning to Near's earlier words, the offer to let him stay wherever he created his base. It was a bit odd coming from Near, and he wasn't sure what exactly to make of it. _

_He gripped the side of his backpack, 'He's being idiotic if he thinks I'm really going to take the offer… he should know better than that. What a stupid waste of time on his part…'_

If only he had known, at the time, just how many times he'd take up Near's offer.

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><p>AN: So, what did you think? I'm a little worried for continuities sake for later on and everything I have planned, but hopefully the wonderful people who've been looking over this before publishing will be able to catch me, should I tread from the line it's currently going. We'll see. I sometimes think I'm thinking too far into this whole thing and that's going to be the eventual cause for it to turn out not how I want. But so far, everything's been holding up good. So we'll see. Hopefully you enjoyed the chapter, though. Let me know what you think so far and the next chapter should be up soon.

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	4. Call

A/N: For the first time in years, I wrote my chapters out of order. I wrote this chapter yesterday, but I wrote chapter five the day before. So… I've already got both done. Chapter five is by far much better than this one, but this one needed to be done, of course. So bear with me just another chapter longer and then you will have your first Mello and Near interaction. Let me know what you think! Also, thanks to Belletrist Word Salad for editing this chapter for me! Much appreciated, and as you know, you get a free-be favor from me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

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><p><span>Chapter 4:<span> Call

By the time Mello and Michael arrived back in New York, it was well into the cold winter night. One AM, to be exact. Mello held firm onto Michael's hand, looking around at the people. This certainly was the city that never slept. Even after midnight, people were still bustling about.

He looked down at his son, who was watching all the people as well. It hadn't quite hit him yet that this little boy was his, now. His responsibility. What had hit him, though, was the realization that he was in this alone. It was not his responsibility to share with another, as it usually was. No, it was his alone.

He stopped a moment, remembering that he'd taken his motorcycle to the airport. There was no way he was going to allow someone as young as Michael to ride on it. Mello was always careful, but with something as precious as his son…there was no such thing as 'careful enough'.

He led Michael over to a set of chairs set up as a waiting area. "I have to call a friend to come get us." He told him, taking out his cell phone and quickly dialing Matt's number, waiting for the redhead to answer the phone and watching Michael patiently swing his legs back and forth off the chair.

"Yo, Mels! How'd things go? You back in the States yet?" Matt's voice suddenly came across the other end.

"Yeah, I'm back. Get over to the airport and pick me up," he said bluntly.

"What? You have your motorcycle; get back on your own!" Matt protested, Mello rolled his eyes, knowing Matt was probably ignoring every duty he brought him to New York to do in favor of playing his video games. Typical Matt…

"I _can't_, Matt. Now, get over here. If you're not here in half an hour, I'm breaking your computer." With that, he hung up the phone, sighing and resting back against the chair. Somehow, the thirteen hour flight had not made him restless, but more tired than anything.

Things had been crazy the last week. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten any rest. But as his blue eyes trailed over to Michael, he knew it was all worth it. No matter what, he would definitely be sleeping well tonight.

Reaching over, he patted Michael's head lightly. The boy looked over at him instantly, his grey eyes full of wonder. "Is your friend comin' to get us?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be here soon to take us home. Well…my home, and I guess soon it'll be yours, too." He shrugged, "It's nothing special, but it's home."

Michael nodded in understanding, his blonde hair bobbing back and forth at the motion and a few strands falling before his eyes. He looked up at them, blowing upward to push them out of the way.

Mello gave him a confused look, "Why don't you grow your hair out?" he asked curiously, for once wondering what the little boy's hair would look like longer. It wasn't as straight as his own, still maintaining bit of Near's wave. He wondered if Michael would play with his hair, if it was longer, the way Near did his own. The way he used to with Mello's.

Michael scrunched his nose at the sheer mention of growing his hair out, "No! Then it'd get in my way more! Plus, long hair is for girls! I'm not a girl!"

Mello smirked. "But I've always had long hair, ever since I was your age. My mom cut my hair like this. Are you calling me a girl?"

Michael instantly shook his head. "No! You're not a girl!"

"But you said only girls had long hair." With the way Michael was instantly trying to cover what he'd said, Mello liked seeing him get a bit flustered. It was cute.

"Well…that's different! 'Cause…'cause you're an adult! Adults are allowed to have long hair and not be a girl! Everyone knows that," Michael tried to explain, huffing dramatically as though his dad, of all people, should know that much.

Mello chuckled. "Is that so?" He then looked around, feeling the familiar craving on his taste buds. He couldn't remember how long it'd been since he'd had a bar of chocolate. Definitely too long, though, that much was certain.

He stood up, offering his hand to Michael. "Come on, there's a little convenience store over there. You hungry? I'll get you something if you want," he offered as his son bounced off his seat and took Mello's hand. The boy was so full of energy, so reminiscent of himself as a child.

The little blond boy nodded. "What are you getting, daddy?" he asked, looking up as Mello led him through the small bouts of crowds towards a convenience store selling mostly magazines and books. But up near the counter were boxes of different candies.

"Just a bar of chocolate or two," Mello said simply.

Michal nodded. "Can I have onea those too, then, please?" he asked politely, giving a big smile as he looked up at his dad expectantly.

Mello nodded, grabbing two bars of chocolate from the box and setting them up on the counter -paying quickly with cash then handing one to Michael. "Try not to make a mess, okay?" He told them as they headed back to where they'd previously been sitting. "Matt'll kill me if we so much as get a drop of anything in his precious car."

Michael nodded as he hopped back up onto his chair and tore open his chocolate bar with little care to if he was breaking the bar or not. Mello waited with his own, watching his son carefully. To him, this moment was pivotal. Did his son share his same love and need for chocolate?

Michael took one of the broken pieces of chocolate and popped it into his mouth, continuing to watch the people walk by them. After a moment of chewing, he looked down at the chocolate bar in his hand and swallowed hard before looking over to Mello and holding the rest of the bar out to him. "Here you go."

Mello gave him a confused look. "You don't want it?"

The little blonde boy shook his head, "It's too sweet."

Mello chuckled and plucked the rest of the chocolate bar from his son's hands. He was a bit disappointed in that -something he wouldn't get to share with his son. But on the other hand, he guessed he should have expected it, and it was a good piece of knowledge to know. "That's a shame." He commented, but then had to wonder. "What kinds of things _do_ you like?" It felt odd having to ask his son what he liked, as if he should just _know_ these things. But he had no clue…

Michael looked over instantly, his eyes bright at the question. "I like to play soccer! And I like to play with cars, and robots, and I like board games and puzzles, and I like playing hide and seek outside and…stuff like that," he answered happily.

"What kinds of _foods_ do you eat, Michael. That's what I meant." Mello clarified.

"Oh…" The boy paused a moment, thinking. "I like lotsa food! But I don't like vegetables too much. But I do like ice cream! And lots of fruit. And…lotsa other things I can't think of right now."

_'How much of that comes from you, Near?'_ Mello wondered. _'And how much of that is just him being a normal kid?'_ It was hard to say, and a part of him wondered if he would _ever_ be able to tell the difference. "I see…" he said simply, leaning back and popping a piece of his son's uneaten chocolate bar in his mouth, savoring the creamy texture that filled his mouth. How anyone could _not_ like chocolate was beyond him.

It was when Mello finished his son's uneaten chocolate bar when he suddenly felt the inside of his coat vibrate, and he quickly took out his phone, flipping it open. 'Get your ass out here!' read the text from Matt. Finally, he could get out of this place. He'd just begun seriously re-considering the motorcycle idea when he got the message.

He stood up. "Matt's here to take us home. Come on."

Michael jumped down from the chair, and as Mello began to walk off towards the automatic sliding glass doors, the boy quickly grabbed his dad's hand, making the elder blonde smile down at him. Michael really was a cute kid. How a kid like him could be created from his and Near's genes and come out the way he had, he wasn't sure.

Just before they exited the building out into the cold December night, Mello stopped, in realization. He let go of Michael's hand momentarily and shrugged off his fur-trimmed red coat. "Here, you wear this. It's going to be cold out there," he told him, offering a hint of a smile as he crouched down to wrap it protectively around the small boy. "Nowhere near as cold as it was in England, but cold enough."

Michael nodded. "Thank you!" he said politely, a single little hand holding the sides of Mello's coat closed around him, the other desperately trying to find the end of the sleeve so he could still hold his father's hand.

Stepping out into the cold night, Matt was leaning against his beloved red 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle, a portable game console in his hands, reflecting white light off his goggles that were pulled down over his eyes. It was when they stepped up to him that he finally looked up, and clicked off his game. "About time! I got here in twenty-eight minutes, so my computer's safe, right?" he asked, pulling up his goggles off his eyes, serious green orbs meeting Mello's.

The blonde chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, your beloved computer is safe."

Matt went to respond when he finally noticed the little boy beside Mello. "Ah! You're M! I remember you," he said, crouching down to Michael's level.

Michael looked back at Matt, a bit surprised, "I know you! You're Matt, the number one at Wammy's! You're friends with my dad?" He asked, shock dripping from his words and looking between Matt to Mello, who gave his childhood friend a confused look.

Matt chuckled lightly, "You can call me Uncle Matt, now." He scratched at the back of his head, "I was only one because Mello and Near left, not really because I earned it or anything." He explained. "More a default win if anything…But yeah, I've been friends with your dad since we were kids! He was second place in Wammy's, you know. I could tell you loads of stories from those days…"

Michael enthusiastically nodded his head.

Mello rolled his eyes and smacked Matt on the back of his head. "Stop it; you're already being a bad influence on Michael. Let's go already, it's cold." He headed to the passenger seat while his son climbed in the back, clicking his seat belt on.

Matt climbed in the driver's seat and started the car, pulling away from the airport parking lot. "So what are you going to do about your motorcycle?" he asked as they pulled out onto the busy highway.

Mello grinned. "You're going to go back and get it later."

"What? It's your bike! _You_ get it! Why do I have to come all the way back out here?" the gamer instantly protested.

"Because that's what I brought you out here for. To do the work I don't want to do," Mello teased, pulling out the uneaten chocolate bar he'd bought for himself and tearing off the foil. "You know, the meaningless stuff."

Matt sighed. "Fine, whatever." He leaned against the driver's seat and let things settle into a calm silence between the three of them, the only sound being the car engine.

Things were settling down again, and for that, Mello could be happy, and finally allow himself to let his guard down and rest. He'd just closed his eyes and put his head back when Matt's voice cut through the silence. "How hard was it to get him?" He felt those green eyes on him.

"Hard enough." Mello said simply, keeping his eyes closed. "Near ordered Roger not to give him to me. But Roger agreed with me, that he deserved to have someone, even if he still doesn't like me and is uncomfortable with where I'm at right now." He sighed, thankful that Roger had finally given in. He wasn't sure what he would've done had Roger made him leave empty-handed.

"Does _Near_ know you have him?"

"Of course not. If he refused to tell me for four years, _and_ had Roger promise not to give him to me, I can't imagine what he'll do when he finds out…" Mello sighed, taking a bite out of his chocolate.

"Finds out?"

"It's Near, Matt. Of course he's going to find out." He paused a moment, "I'm going to call him tonight," he said under his breath. "I have to see him, now that all of this has happened. I have to know how this happened, and why he did what he did." He explained to his best friend.

Matt scoffed, "Good luck with that. I'm definitely not going to be there for _that_. I already got thrown in the crossfire once when you found out about him. I'm not making that mistake again." He said, and suddenly Mello heard the sudden rush of wind coming in from the window, for Matt had cracked the window down an inch.

"Don't even think about it."

"What?"

"You light that cigarette and I swear I'll burn you with it," Mello promised, his eyes slipping open on him, daring him to try him right now. Matt now had him thinking about what exactly was going to happen when he told Near that he had their son, confronted him about how exactly any of this was possible. He could feel the stress seeping into his body and at the moment he knew he could easily take it out on Matt. Just like he always did.

"Alright, alright…fine." Matt huffed, rolling back up the window. "Killjoy…" he muttered quietly, the cigarette he hadn't yet lit still dangling from his lips.

"I'm not letting my son's health be compromised because of _your_ addiction," Mello told him. "Oh, and no more smoking in the apartment, too."

Matt sighed, leaning back in his seat as they pulled off the highway onto the quieter street their apartment was on. "Fine…whatever. I guess I'll just go out into the cold, cold weather while you get to enjoy _your_ addiction inside the comfortable apartment," he tried to guilt.

"You'll live."

Matt looked back in the rearview mirror as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment. "He's asleep," he commented with a small smile, turning the car off.

"Well, of course. He's had a long day," Mello replied, stepping out of the car and opening the back, seeing his son sleeping against the seat, snuggled tight in Mello's red jacket. Very carefully, he unbuckled Michael and picked him up, holding him close so as to not drop him or wake him.

After closing the door, he went over to Matt, who was holding the door to the entrance of the apartment open for them. Mello stopped by the door. "Take him up and put him in my bed for now," he told him, carefully handing Michael over to him.

"Where're you going?" Matt asked quietly, green eyes full of wonder and question.

"Nowhere. I just need to make that phone call," he said, blue eyes communicating all his worry about how this could go. But he needed to know, and Mello needed to get all of his questions answered. There was a bit of worry over what Near would say, or what it would be like to see him now that everything had happened. But his need was bad enough to take the risk.

After Matt went inside with Michael, Mello pulled out his cell phone, dialing the familiar number and putting the phone to his ear, sitting down on the curb. He counted the rings.

One. Two. Three.

"This is Near."

Mello swallowed, forcing himself to be calm, composed, direct. "Near…we need to talk."

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><p>AN: Well, there you go! What did you think? No flashback in this chapter, but on the other hand you got more interaction between Mello and Michael, and the introduction of Matt into the picture. Next chapter there will be Mello Near interaction, and you'll get the story of _how_ Near was able to have Michael. Should be exciting! But, until then, leave me your thoughts on this! More reviews will result in quicker updates.

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	5. Explanation

A/N: I have a beta for a reason. To edit my work. Why? Because, frankly, I suck at grammar and to keep my continuity straight. I tell you, my wonderful readers, this because I feel it should be noted that I _never_ edit my own work. Even when I don't have a beta, I still hardly look back at it. Partially because I can never stand to look at my own work. But, the point I'm trying to make is this. This one chapter has been edited at least five times before being posted here. Hopefully that translates. I wanted this to be an amazing chapter for everyone, because I know how much people were looking forward to it. Let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

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><p><span>Chapter 5:<span> Explanation

There was a long pause on the other end of the line where Mello could almost see Near analyzing the situation and attempting to figure out the meaning behind all of this, why the sudden need to see him after their explosive last meeting; the moment Mello had confronted Near about the existence of Michael.

"What's this about?" Near finally responded

"Don't give me that!" Mello snapped, pacing where he stood behind the apartment building. Michael had been put to bed before calling, but even so he didn't want to risk his son hearing anything. "You owe me an explanation."

There was a sigh from the other end and once again Mello could almost see his rival's actions. The subtle roll of those grey eyes, the way he'd look away and twirl a lock of hair. "I don't feel an explanation is warranted. What happened has happened and the same mistake will not occur again. I feel it unimportant to dwell on it when there are much more pressing matters at hand."

"That's not good enough, Near! You _owe_ me this, after what you did to me!" Mello shot back. Of course Near wouldn't make this easy on either of them. But part of him knew that he shouldn't expect anything else. Asking this from Near was to ask him to admit to his mistake, which was like asking mountains to move.

"I do not _owe_ you anything, Mello."

"Yes, you do!" Mello turned suddenly and punched the brick wall as hard as he could. The pain that shot up his arm was nothing compared to the persistent stew of anger and frustration.

The fact that Near was holding this out on him hurt. He'd been living in a fantasy with Near up until this point, a fantasy that somebody out there finally cared about him. But the reality was that Near _didn't_ care. No matter how much he tried to lie to himself, Near was always tied to the reality of the situation and was just letting Mello play the fool.

"Please…" he muttered quietly into the receiver. "You've kept _everything_ from me. I need to know. What am I…" _What am I supposed to tell him?_ "What am I supposed to think?" he opted for as the safer route.

"You need not think anything. Neither you nor I have ties to him and thus it doesn't matter. It should cease to exist, for you," Near reasoned, and perhaps that made sense to him, but not to Mello. It was a new low for Near that even Mello never expected. Near was never very…human, in the sense of feelings and emotions, but he had seen behind that and would've never thought Near this…_cold_. The time that he thought he finally knew Near for who he really was felt like years ago, now.

"I know you're not that cold, Near," Mello said quietly, leaning against the wall he'd just hit and ignoring the pain in his hand. "I know you have a heart somewhere in that robotic body of yours. Please, for just a minute pretend you care and sympathize with me. What am I supposed to think after this is all been sprung on me? I deserve to at least know how this came about."

"I pretended for much too long, Mello."

Near's statement hurt, Mello would never deny that. Just like Near, pulling that specific card hit a sensitive spot for him and forced him to admit his own weakness and low point. He didn't like the feeling, or having to admit it. He had to bite his tongue to keep from saying he understood where Near was coming from.

"Alright," he suddenly heard from the other end.

"Alright?"

"Come to my building at this time tomorrow night, if you want your explanation." An exhale. "If you're not here at that time, I'll assume you don't want this bad enough and I'll lock the building for the night. Understood, Mello?"

Mello grinned at Near's way of still trying to hold all the cards and not admit that he was giving in to someone else's wants. Playing it off as just another game between them. He could go along with that, no problem. He was surprised Near had finally given in, but he wouldn't question it and risk Near taking back the offer.

"Is that a challenge, Near?"

"Just be here." The only response before the line was cut dead.

_'If it means I'm getting my questions finally answered, I'll be there.'_

_-:-_

It took Mello fifteen minutes to reach the familiar SPK headquarters the following night. He looked up at the building, for nostalgia's sake, remembering all the times he'd driven up to the building, as it was the only place he had to go and letting the feeling of wrongness overtake him as if he was making a mistake just by standing in front of it, as though the sheer sight of it towering over him proved just how much he had fallen in comparison to Near.

He tore his gaze away and entered into the building, glad to find Near hadn't gone back on his word and locked him out of the building even before his allotted time was up. Taking the elevator up twenty floors, Mello felt his nerves starting to get to him. The anxiety of what Near would have to say, and what would happen…whether or not they would fight as bad as they did the last time they saw each other.

He sighed, in a way feeling bad for how he'd treated Near then. Sure, the bastard deserved it for what he did; but at the same time, Mello knew he should've controlled himself better. Yelling was one thing. Leaving bruises and making him bleed was another thing entirely. In a way, it made him feel as though he was no better than how he'd been as a child, and the thought made him shudder in disgust.

The elevator dinged once he'd reached his selected floor and the doors slid open to the hallway containing the room that Near lived in the few times he wasn't working on the Kira case. Once Mello reached said room, he knocked twice.

"It's open," came Near's soft reply.

Mello entered. The lights were off, leaving only the outside light from the city, and everything was clean and in place, as if still vacant. Wood floors throughout (and not a single toy or puzzle upon it); a white wrap-around couch; windows that took up the entire far wall, showing the New York City skyline; and a TV that most likely never showed anything but the news, if that.

The moment he closed the door behind him, Mello knew he was alone with him and the anxious feeling began swelling inside him once more. He saw him just on the other side of the couch, sitting on the floor facing away from him.

"Just like old times," Near said once Mello closed the door.

Mello nodded, though he knew Near couldn't see it. He stepped forward, further into the apartment and around, sitting down on the couch with his blue eyes locked on Near. He didn't know what to say, but at the same time, he still felt the need to take control of the situation.

"Fifteen minutes before time was up," Near stated when Mello said nothing. "I was under the assumption that you _really_ wanted to know, Mello." He was provoking him to respond, Mello knew.

"I'd've aimed for thirty, but you can never be sure with New York traffic." Careful conversation, both were ignoring the elephant in the room; Mello because he didn't know what to say, and Near because he didn't want to go so far as to admit everything he knew to Mello.

Silence fell upon them again, and this time, Mello allowed himself a moment to take in the atmosphere, something he knew Near wouldn't bother to do. It was tense, with so much unsaid. But no matter what they did, no matter who said what, that always seemed to be the case. And in a way, it was reassuring, something Mello only felt when around Near. It wasn't something he could explain, but ever since they started doing this regularly…he just had this overwhelming sense of calm.

He shook his head. Perhaps he was still locked within that fantasy of his that nothing outside of this room mattered, that he was safe and cared about here. He swallowed, hating to tell himself that he was wrong, thus leaving him with nothing in the world holding that feeling.

"Well?" he finally forced out.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to tell me how this happened or did I come all the way out here for nothing, Near?" Mello insisted, his eyes narrowing on Near. He'd already fought with Near to get to this point and he wasn't in the mood to do it again. His whole week had been a struggle to get his way and frankly he was fucking sick of it.

Near remained silent for a moment, though Mello was sure he saw something subtle change in the boy's actions. "I suppose you deserve an explanation for your persistence alone." He stood up from his place in the center of the room and turned towards Mello, his dark eyes somehow aglow with something eerily reminiscent of what the blonde had seen in the SPK headquarters.

Mello caught his breath. There was so much of Near in Michael, and as this was the first time he'd seen Near since meeting their son, it all became so epiphanic in that moment. The fact that they'd actually created such a good, happy little boy like Michael. It didn't seem possible that genes from the likes of them could've created someone like him.

But they did. Michael was _theirs_.

Near paused a moment, looking off as if wondering where exactly he should start his story. Mello watched him carefully, taking in his every quality and comparing it all to their son. The wispy hair, those dark eyes, his quiet nature…it was all so…Near. He wasn't sure, though, if he should see those qualities as a blessing or a curse.

"This has to do with that scar, doesn't it?" Mello said suddenly, breaking Near out of his thoughts and bringing those dark, ever-analyzing orbs back onto him. Mello's eyes trailed down Near's lithe body to his hips, where he remembered always seeing that long, terrible scar, always wondering where it came from.

Near remained silent a moment then finally nodded. "Yes, it does." He went over to the other side of the couch from Mello and sat down, bringing one leg up to his chest. "We all have our stories, Mello. We all have a place that we came from and things that happened in order to lead to our placement in Wammy's."

"And what's yours, Near?"

Near looked over, obviously debating whether it was a smart idea to say or not. But the way Mello had it now, he really didn't have much room to say otherwise. They were brought up to never speak of their lives before Wammy's. Or rather, no one _ever_ spoke of it. It just wasn't something orphans liked to speak about.

"My parents were scientists," he finally began, looking past Mello and into the skyline. "I don't remember much from when I was younger. But I know enough to gather that their main focus was the biology of the human anatomy. They were apparently part of some radical scientific movement aiming to alter the human species to evolve through scientific means, instead of waiting for nature to do it. They worked out of the basement, where nobody would question what they were doing with their patients."

Mello observed how Near's face never broke composure, as if he was reading something scripted rather than retelling the story of his own life. But Near's gaze showed that he was no longer in the room with him, but looking into a time long past.

There was a part of Mello that wondered if he should move and touch Near, something to keep him grounded here in the present. He knew how hard reliving a painful childhood could be, how easy it was to get lost in that time, how hard it was to come back to the here and now. However, something about Near's presence kept him rooted to his spot.

"I never questioned it as a child. I remember my parents bringing in random people, taking them into their office. Never seeing them again." He paused and closed his eyes, one hand reaching up to twirl a lock of his hair.

"One day, I suppose they ran out of subjects to use, for whatever they were trying to accomplish. And since they conveniently had a four-year-old son with above-average intelligence, they decided I was best fitted to be their next subject. All I remember of it is being strapped down, then injected with some anesthesia they'd concocted. When I woke up, I was left alone for quite some time before the authorities arrested them and took me away."

As Near finished his story, Mello clenched his fists, livid at what he'd just heard. He remembered learning long ago about the atrocities of the Holocaust, the experiments carried out at Auschwitz by Dr. Josef Mengele, experiments that had earned him the moniker "The Angel of Death." From what Near had just told him, his parents' experiments were no different…and that was what enraged Mello the most. To conduct such experiments on total strangers was one thing. But to do so with your own flesh and blood…

"What'd they do?" Mello asked, both to calm himself as well as to find out more.

Near's eyes slipped open, and for a moment, Mello thought he saw something flash in his rival's eyes, something akin to what he'd seen in trauma survivors, before they went blank again.

"Most likely an experiment in attempt to further the human race's ability to survive, no matter what. At least that's what they claimed. They were testing whether or not it was possible for a male's body to contain and use the necessary reproductive organs a female is born with."

This time it was Mello who remained quiet, unsure what to think. He'd seen the scar, how poorly stitched it had been and the terrible mark it had left on Near's flesh. He'd seen the look in Near's eyes. He saw _Michael_. There was no way he was lying…

"And…it worked? Why didn't you tell me, Near?" Fresh anger was present now, partially at Near for not telling him, and partially at himself for not being able to figure it out. But at the same time, he knew there was no way he could hold himself to that. Who could've ever guessed that _that_ was the sort of background that Near had come from?

"Not even I knew, Mello. How could I have? There was no way to know. I had honestly thought it another failed experiment that I just happened to survive."

"You didn't even warn me of this! You could've warned me that you're…that you're practically a woman!"

Near closed his eyes. "I'm not a woman, Mello. I'm most definitely male. Just…altered." His dark eyes opened again and watched Mello, analyzing his every reaction.

"Altered…" Mello hissed, as if the word tasted vile to him. "Yeah, that's a good word for it." He looked away, trying to take everything in. There wasn't much to be angry at, now that he knew; nothing he could do anything about. Near was right about one thing: what was done was done, and there was nothing they could do about it, regardless of how much Near wanted to deny Michael's existence.

A tense silence fell between them, Near watching Mello, and Mello watching the night outside, just trying to think of anything he _could_ say. He knew what he _wanted_ to say, but wasn't sure if he could bring himself to say it and risk what Near would do. He wanted to admit that he'd taken Michael, and tell Near how wrong his decision to leave the boy at Wammy's had been, especially for _those_ reasons…

Finally, his blue eyes met Near's grey. "So. Your parents thought of you as nothing but a guinea pig. And you think of our kid as nothing but a potential successor. That kind of thinking just runs in your family, huh?"

Near's eyes narrowed on him. "Yes. It does," he answered.

The younger then stood up. "If that's the only business you have with me, Mello, then I think it's time we end this meeting. You have the information you came for; now we can end this and move on with more pressing matters." He started walking away until Mello's sudden words caught him.

"I have Michael."

Near froze, eyes firm on the wall in front of him. "What do you mean you _have_ Michael?"

"You might not have wanted him, Near, but I did. You didn't have a right to make that choice for me, so I went to Wammy's and got him. Roger put up a good fight for you, but in the end he agreed with me. The boy deserves to have _some_ sort of family."

Near slowly turned back to Mello, the look and the feeling radiating from him positively deadly. Mello knew his rival, and he knew that in that moment, if Near had had any less self-control, he would most likely attack Mello where he stood. All the blonde could do was glare back, silently daring Near to try anything, say anything.

"Where?"

"None of your business."

"I could track you in an instant and have him taken back. _That_ is the safest place for Michael. Not your definition of _family_." Near took a daring step closer to Mello. "What do you consider a _family_, Mello? Your rundown apartment on the bad side of town because you're running from the law who wants you for your ties to the mafia? Yes, that is a great place for a child."

"It's better than thinking his parents are _dead_, Near!"

"I was protecting him by sending him away." Near replied.

"You were abandoning him! You didn't want him! You _still_ don't want him! You don't even know what your own son looks like! He has so much of you in him. Can you really just push that away? Something that _we_created?" Mello shot back, on the verge of tears. "He wants to know who his mother is, Near. What am I supposed to say to that?"

"What do you expect me to do? If I get involved in that child's life, what happens if Kira, or one of his followers, finds out about Michael? Are you really willing to take that risk, Mello? _You_ who took Deputy Director Yagami's daughter as a hostage to get what you wanted. And look what happened to you." Near replied, motioning to the other's scar, causing Mello to turn a bit, as if to block it from sight. "You're _foolish_ if you think what you're doing is correct."

"He's happy."

"For how long? It was better to leave him there and let him grow up to take my place. He had a future there. I don't want him, but at least I didn't leave him with _nothing._" Near turned back to leave again.

"What am I supposed to tell him, Near?"

"Tell him the truth, if you're so keen on making sure he knows it. You can leave, now. We're finished here."

Mello headed for the door to leave the room at the same time Near went to the door of the single bedroom in the apartment, tears threatening to spill as his heart broke even more for his son.

"Mello." Both stopped simultaneously at the younger's voice. Neither looked at the other, unable to stand the sight of each other at that moment. "I'm not going to take Michael from you. If it is your wish to raise him, then by all means. But I will have no part of it."

Mello finally forced himself to look over at Near, taking in the sight of a mother denying the existence of their only flesh and blood. Near was facing away from him, but his head turned back to him, eyes pointed downward to the floor. In that moment, there was an ounce of pain in them, he could tell. _Or am I just seeing things?_

"However," Near continued, "when your plans go out the window, don't expect me to clean up your mistakes."

"Don't worry, I don't."

With that, Near went into his bedroom, officially ending their "meeting". Mello watched him go, even as he opened the door to leave. A part of him didn't want to leave. A part of him felt like, he had come here, and leaving before sunrise broke their routine too much for his liking.

But Near wanted nothing to do with him, at the moment, and the logical side of him couldn't blame the younger detective. He wasn't sure how much he'd destroyed Near's careful plans, but it was enough to crack the boy's resolve, which scared him a bit. As he stepped into the elevator, he stared ahead of him at the mirror-like doors, then closed his eyes as thoughts and memories rushed before his line of sight.

One specific memory, however, always stuck with him. Mello never could completely forget or ignore that scar since the first time he'd seen it that night. He should have pushed, should have prodded. And because he didn't, all this had happened.

But the more he thought about it and let himself be taken back to that time, the more he began to think that perhaps it was not due to individual error so much as it was of everything left unsaid.

_Things always fell into a sort of routine whenever they met on those nights. Few words were needed and fewer questions were uttered, but receiving even fewer answers. All somehow always leading to kisses, which then led to more passion…_

_Gasping breaths, wandering hands, skin on hot skin. Kisses to make it alright, locked hands, equally locked eyes showing the depths of each other's soul. Whispers from ear to ear of words needing to be said to ease all pain. Promises they'd both keep and break all in the same motion. Gasps and so much trust passing from one body to another. Love… the feeling of love and heaven… both present and absent all in the same second._

_And then it's over. And the world falls back into a blissful silence. A silence that calms them both almost as much as their interlocked hands always did._

_This night, however, Mello remained on top of Near, watching the other's slow decent from bliss synchronized with his own._ _He leaned closer again, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, then trailing down and placing one on his temple, his cheek, his lips, and continuing down to his neck._

_"What are you doing?" Near asked him, breathless._

_"Appreciating."_

_He could see Near's confusion through lidded eyes as he trailed his kisses down his collarbone, finally stopping a moment after one last kiss on his shoulder. "Is that not allowed?" he asked with a deviant smirk, daring Near to tell him no._

_Near exhaled, his eyes slipping open to meet Mello's as the older sat back and watched him. "Do as you please, Mello." With that, grey eyes closed once more. Mello could see the exhaustion in them, but he couldn't bring himself to stop nor let Near be so he could sleep. He knew he'd hear about it in the morning, though, when he was still exhausted, but Mello was beginning to think that no matter how many hours Near slept, he'd never cure his exhaustion. The Kira case took a lot out of him, and Mello couldn't envy Near for that._

_From where he sat in Near's lap, he picked up Near's left arm and continued placing his kisses, closing his eyes he could pretend that they meant whatever he wanted them to. He kissed up his forearm, once on his delicate wrist and then each individual finger, in his mind able to visualize how dexterous they were with each of his precious toys, and how steady they were when it came to dominos or cards._

_His eyes slipped open once more, finding Near's half-lidded questioning ones on him, as if asking if he was getting whatever it was he wanted out of him. Or perhaps just simply asking if he was going to be able to sleep that night. He gave the same deviant smirk as before, a definite 'no' in response to the latter question._

_He let Near's arm drop, but moved up and kissed him once more on the lips, their eyes meeting and in that moment they stared into the depths of each other's beings, because no walls were needed between them in that second. In one way or another, they trusted each other not to hold up those lies they were taught were needed in order to survive in this world._

_They had no one else to rely on and be true to but each other._

_Mello moved down, kissing down Near's neck again, then once over his heart, feeling it beat beneath the skin, a simple act to show that the other was not as robotic as he let on, that he was still a human with his own likes and dislikes and not just an inhuman obstacle to Mello's goals._

_He would've stayed there and listened to the steady beat the rest of the night had he thought Near would allow it or that he wouldn't crush the smaller body beneath him._

_He moved down again, kissing each rib that he felt through Near's taut, yet soft white skin, then down to his belly button. As he continued, however, he felt Near begin to tense up beneath him. Mello looked up instantly and saw Near no longer looking at him, but away, out the window that spanned the wall to their right, a look of discomfort having flashed in his eyes._

_Mello sat up, his head cocking to the side. He looked down at Near's body splayed out beneath him, eyeing him from his head of white waves down his lithe body until his eyes finally rested on something he'd never taken the time to notice._

_A thick white, curved line, somehow lighter than Near's skin stretched from one of Near's slightly projected hipbones to the other. Perpendicular to the line were fainter white lines within every inch or so of each. A scar, Mello knew. But from what? Something serious, he could tell._

_Mello reached out, a careful hand wanting to trace the line, as if to be sure it was even really there._

_"Don't touch it," Near's quiet voice suddenly stopped him._

_Blue eyes shot up to meet Near's averted darker ones. For once, there were so many emotions present there that Mello couldn't just read one. He couldn't remember a time he'd seen Near plagued by so many emotions, so obviously unable to deal with any of them._

_"What is this? What happened to you, Near?"_

_"It's not important, Mello. Just leave it be. Let me sleep now." Grey eyes moved back to him, luminescent in the low lighting, and instantly devoid of all the emotions Mello'd just seen except for desperation to make Mello leave it alone._

_"Tell me who did this to you. It looks like some back-alley suture job," Mello pressed._

_Near sighed, sitting up a bit and lifting his right hand and wound a blonde lock around his finger. Mello's blue eyes watched Near's grey ones watch the way his finger so carefully spun the soft lock._

_The dark orbs finally moved back to him. "Believe me when I tell you that it is not important. I have found that some things in this world are just better left in the past."_

_Because it was Near's wish and an onset of fatigue, Mello did drop the subject, never again asking where the scar came from or daring to touch it._

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><p>AN: So, there you go. There's the first meeting between Mello and Near in this story. Trust me, there will be more. Anyway, like I said above, I tried really hard to put out the best product I can with this. Thanks majorly to Belletrist Word Salad for all the amazing help you've done on this story! Everyone should go read her own MxN mpreg she's started, Posthumous. It's different from mine, and definitely going to be an interesting read. You'll find a link to it under my 'favorite stories' on my page. Anyway, as I said before, a lot of work went into making this chapter perfect for you all, so please let me know what you think about it in a review, and the next chapter should hopefully be out soon!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	6. Memories

A/N: I think it's important to stress, with this story, that the genres 'family/romance' are just not enough to encompass all of the things that this story is. I'm sure that is the case for many stories on here, but this one in particular I really wish I could put more than just two genres. Yes, family is at the root of it, considering Mello raising Michael. And romance is there too, in the flashbacks. But there will also be drama, between Mello and Near's meetings (as seen in last chapter), and maybe a bit of tragedy later on, as well as the terribleness of Near's abandonment of Michael. So instead of just 'family/romance', consider this story 'family/romance/drama/tragedy'-ish. This is a bit long of a note, but I felt it was really needed, so there was no confusion about what this story actually is. Also, thanks to the people that reviewed last chapter. I was a little surprised there wasn't a few more, but... as long as people are still enjoying it, I suppose, then what room do I have to complain? Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

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><p><span>Chapter 6:<span> Memories

Stepping out of the SPK building into the cold December night suddenly felt like the worst thing Mello had ever done. In a way it spawned in him a feeling as though he had lost by leaving and walking out with the memories of so many nights he and Near had shared chasing after him. He shook them off instead with the thought of what exactly had just happened between them.

What exactly was he supposed to do now, he wondered to himself as he dug his hands deep into his pockets and headed over to his motorcycle parked across the street from Near's building. What was Near going to do? Would he keep his word and not take any actions against him to take Michael away?

There was no way for Mello to know, and that thought scared him more than anything else. The idea that Near always had his plans, and Mello had no way of knowing what they were. He had screwed up one of Near's plans. Who knew what the younger genius could, or would, do in retaliation.

He shuddered momentarily as he mounted his bike and took off down the street, telling himself it was on account of the cold wind, and not the worry of what Near could do to him with so much power now at his disposal.

_'He wouldn't do anything without telling me first. Not without giving me fair warning.'_ Mello told himself, grappling for some way to know he still had an ounce of control of the situation. _'If I have no notice, no warning, then the game ceases to be interesting for either of us.'_ But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Near would not consider it a game. He'd remain as objective as ever.

And as Mello had recently learned, objectivity did not always come with fairness.

The blonde spent the rest of the ride back to the apartment thinking over what exactly Near could possibly do, if given enough provocation. And at the same time wondering what exactly he was going to do about Near. There was that stubborn part of him that knew he couldn't just let Near get away with not ever seeing or knowing their son.

Michael wanted to meet and know his mother, and as far as Mello was concerned, he would make sure that happened. It wasn't fair for him to know and have so many memories with Near, and yet continue to allow Michael to have none of his own.

Then again, at the same time, Mello also couldn't be certain that Near would ever want to see him after what he'd just told him and what Mello had done. There was nothing to say that Near wouldn't refuse to meet or work with him from that point forward. Sure, Mello refused to work with Near on the Kira case. But calling it that, and sharing bits of information with each other allowed them to live under the ruse and have a clear conscience with each other when their topics of discussions moved on to other, less important matters.

_'That can't just be the end of it.'_ He told himself, but in the back of his mind, he had to acknowledge that no matter how much he wanted to change things, if Near didn't want it to be so, the younger had all the power in the world to make that so.

_'So what am I supposed to do? Just let it drop unless he makes another move?'_ Mello wondered, but almost instantly scoffed. _'Near doesn't take initiative when it pertains to anything other than his precious puzzles and games.'_ He sighed as he turned into the parking space in front of the apartment. _'It might just be safest for me to let it drop, unless he expresses a desire for anything to change from how it is now.'_

Parking his motorcycle by Matt's red Chevrolet, Mello dismounted, his eyes watching the pavement and his head still swimming in thoughts. What was he supposed to do now? Where could he go? What could he do about Near? He knew he couldn't just let all of this go. A part of him felt wrong to not fight back, but he also had to realize he didn't know what kind of person he was fighting anymore. He wasn't sure how much pressure would make Near finally snap.

And who knew what would happen then…

He stepped inside the cold yet familiar building and began to ascend the stairs up to the third floor apartment he shared with Matt and now with Michael. As he went up the steps, he looked down each hall, through the open doors and for a brief second peered into each tenant's life. Crack addicts. Broken families. Women who had to sell their bodies just to survive. Or feed their kids.

_What do you consider a family, Mello? Your rundown apartment on the bad side of town because you're running from the law who wants you for your ties to the mafia?_ Near's earlier words made him shudder as he, for the first time, took in exactly where he was living. Where his _son_ was living…

When Mello had taken up residence here, he'd done it out of bare necessity. It was close enough to Near's headquarters to make him feel as though he was still in the game, and yet far enough away to keep him from feeling like he needed that close proximity. He was always aware that the law was looking for him after what he'd done with the mafia, both to get into it, and for using their aid with the Kira case.

At the time, after he blew up his base out west, he knew he had to go into hiding. What better place for him to hide than among his own people? The broken and bleeding people that society would rather sacrifice to Kira than address. What better place than with the people he mirrored. The ones that even in the worst condition, still refused to give up.

But things were different now. Mello had always been cautious while living here. He'd always had a gun on his person, slept with it under his pillow, in case anything went bad, or anyone tried to break in. And when Matt came to live with him, he'd had the gamer set up a security system on the floor they lived on. And now, with Michael, nothing was secure enough for his liking.

He shook the thought from his mind as he reached the third floor and entered into the apartment. But even then, it was as if he was seeing it with a new set of eyes. The place was a standard apartment, kitchen off to the right from the door, an open living room, one bedroom to the right. It was basic, like he needed. But now, it felt empty.

It _wasn't_ a home. At least, not the kind of home he wanted for Michael. He wished he could give Michael something better than this. Something that felt more right, than here. Somewhere… somewhere like Near's place. Yes, it was empty and a bit cold…but he had a lot of memories there and it was the only place that felt right.

Matt looked up from where he was sitting behind three laptops in the living room when he noticed Mello's presence. "Hey, Mels, how'd it go?" he asked, a small smile growing across his features as he pulled up his orange goggles.

Mello shrugged, stepping into the room further and kicking off his boots. "I don't want to talk about it," he said quietly, looking around. "Where's Michael?"

"Asleep, of course," Matt said, picking up one of his handheld games at the mention that his friend didn't want to speak of whatever had happened between himself and his rival. He knew the blonde well enough to know that when Mello wanted to talk, he would come to him. "He's in the room." He chanced one more look up to the blonde. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I'm guessing nothing positive happened…you look sick, Mello."

Mello shook his head, going towards the bedroom door. "I'll tell you in the morning, Matt. I promise. It's too late to be getting worked up about things that are already done," he said with a small sigh.

Matt nodded. "Well then…I guess I'll talk to you in the morning," he said, offering his childhood friend a smile that in it conveyed all the comfort Mello needed in that moment, the assurance that things would be alright, and that he'd be there for both him and Michael.

Mello simply nodded, muttering a small 'goodnight' before entering quietly into the bedroom.

There was only one bed there considering it was all Mello had needed up until this point. In the back of his mind he made a note to get another one for Michael. But that, along with all his other thoughts, was repressed. For now, he needed to try and calm himself down, assure himself that everything was fine and that his son wouldn't be taken away from him by Near.

He pulled off his shirt before carefully tugging back the sheets on the empty side of the bed and slipping in. Michael was already asleep on the other side, tucked tight into the deep red sheets. His light blonde hair and pale skin contrasted against the color so well. Mello couldn't help but give a small smile at how cute the boy was. _His_ boy.

_'Near won't take you away from me. I worked too hard and lost too much time to lose you now.'_ He settled down on the bed and wrapped the covers around himself. The movement disturbed Michael, whose brow scrunched together before dark eyes slipped halfway open. "Daddy?" he asked tiredly.

Mello smiled a bit and reached out to gently brush the boy's hair out of his eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, Michael," he whispered quietly.

"Where did you go?" Michael asked, shifting in his spot. One of his small hands appeared from under the blankets and began rubbing his eyes as a yawn escaped his lips.

"Nowhere. It's not important."

Michael pouted. "You were gone a long time…" He was quiet a moment as he watched his father, his eyes full of wonder and question. There was an air of familiarity in them that was so reminiscent of Near's, Mello observed. "Were you visiting my Mama?" Michael finally asked, quieter and sadder than before.

Mello's heart fell. "Yeah, I did." He hated admitting that he got to see Near, while Michael didn't, but it would feel even worse to lie to the boy. "I had to tell your mother that I had you," he said simply.

Michael looked down to the space between them for a long moment, where Mello could only watch the wave of sadness that washed over his son. Dark eyes looked up at him again. "Why doesn't she wanna see me?"

Mello sighed hard and reached out to pull his son closer and hug him tight. "It's…it's not that your mother _doesn't_ want to see you…it's just…" His voice trailed off as he couldn't find the words to say. He closed his eyes, searching his mind for whatever the right word was.

He stopped, however, the moment he felt the trembling in his arms. His blue eyes shot open and looked down, taking in the sight of his son crying in his arms. He held him tighter as Michael sobbed, "What did I do, Daddy? Why doesn't she wanna see me? Can I say sorry?"

Mello shushed him. "Your mother is just…you didn't do anything, Michael. I promise you. I'll talk to Near. I'll find a way for you to meet your mother. Just give me a bit of time, alright? I promise."

Michael, however, didn't respond, and Mello couldn't bring himself to look at him and see him cry. It would shatter a heart already broken for his son and he vowed to do everything in his power to not ever have to see it again.

"I'll fix this, Michael."

-:-

On the other side of town, Near sighed as he looked himself over in the mirror of the bathroom offset from apartment bedroom. Closing his eyes momentarily, he began undoing each button of his shirt till it slid off his arms and onto the tile floor. Dark eyes slid open and began looking himself over in the reflection.

He was never too sure what Mello saw there that kept him coming back. Pale skin covered a thin figure, though he wasn't emaciated by any means. There just wasn't anything there to make him any different, or any better, than any other human being on Earth.

His eyes trailed down his body and he suddenly had to swallow and pause before he could go on. Near never thought much of the way his body looked, but _that_ was just somewhere he almost never let his eyes go to. The sight of it alone sickened him, that _scar_ that marred the flesh between his hip bones. Sometimes if he tried, he could forget about it for a minute, and pretend he was just a normal…child prodigy fated to take over the title of L.

Reaching out with a single trembling hand, he allowed his fingers to gently touch it, cringing momentarily at the slick feeling. He knew it didn't hurt him anymore, as it used to in the past, but with such a traumatic story behind it, the pain was forever ingrained in his mind. Touching it felt like fire on his skin, but he continued to finger each stitch mark, each curvature.

He remembered the day he'd had Michael, remembered the pain when they'd had to reopen the area to take Michael out of him. He remembered the memories that'd surged through him, the way he'd been entirely consumed by his body going into shock. He remembered the surge of emotion that'd taken over his heart in ways he'd never experienced on such a level before.

But all of that was in the past; exactly where it was supposed to be, and where he intended on leaving it. The scarred area was completely healed now, and looked almost no different than it had years ago, when it first came to Mello's attention. For that, he was thankful. He already could just barely stand to see it without having it mar him any worse.

With a sigh, Near pulled his hand away and grabbed the clean shirt he'd brought into the bathroom with him and pulled it on, quickly doing up the buttons. _'It's no good to think about it. This is Mello's fault for bringing up unnecessary memories._' He shut off the light in the bathroom and paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room, looking around.

Everything seemed so silent and still in the dark. He couldn't help but be transported back to all those nights that Mello had shown up and, in his own way, kept him company. Sometimes he allowed their actions to get ahead of them and go to levels he should've stopped. Sometimes they'd stay up until all hours of the night…just talking and bantering back and forth like they used to do back at Wammy's.

He gave a small smile as he went over to his dresser and took a toy robot that was set up there. Going back over to the bed, he sat down and began moving each limb as he thought back to it.

_"Is Roger really going to take over being Watari?" Mello asked, lying on his back on the couch as Near sat not far away from him, watching him intently._

_"What do you mean? Of course he is. That's what he was there to do in the first place," Near explained. "Take over when Wammy died."_

_"Yeah, but it's completely different now." Mello told him, blue eyes looking back at the younger._

_"How so, dear Mello?" Near asked, reaching over and spinning one golden lock on his pale finger, a bit surprised when Mello said absolutely nothing about him touching his hair as he always expected he would. The texture was soft and silky, as he had always imagined it would be._

_"Roger isn't like Wammy. He doesn't like us. He never took the time to get to know either of us." Mello began to explain, letting his eyes close as he did so._

_"Your point?"_

_"So, he doesn't know you. He doesn't know me. Though that one doesn't matter so much now, I guess…since unless Kira kills you, you get to be L." He huffed, but there wasn't so much that sense of resentment in his tone as if he accepted that fact now. "Wammy had known L since he was a kid and devoted his life to just L. Roger didn't do that for us. He was only involved because Wammy was his best friend and needed someone to watch over Wammy's House. Roger may be fit for the job, but what an awkward working condition that will be."_

_"I suppose we shall see, Mello," Near replied. "You could say Wammy was blinded, then, because he was so close to L. Perhaps things will not be the same between Roger and I. And perhaps it is better that way."_

_"Or maybe it'll all go completely wrong because you don't know each other well enough to be able to work together and be able to anticipate each other's moves," Mello retorted instantly._

_"By that logic, only you should be Watari then," Near commented with a sly smirk, knowing how that would bother Mello's pride. "Is that what you're after, Mello?"_

_"No! That's not what I meant at all! Stop trying to spin my words around! I was just saying!" he snapped, sitting up and breaking Near's light hold over the blond locks._

_Near simply gave a small smile and let it all go._

It felt like such a long time ago when he used to be able to let everything go, and be at ease around Mello. Yes, the Kira case was still an issue for them both, but on those nights it ceased to really matter. The banter, and being transported back to easier times were what became important.

He looked away from his robot, out the window, thinking over all Mello had said to him, the things they'd said to each other. It was a tumultuous meeting, but he hadn't expected anything less from the blonde. Emotions, anger and irrationality especially, were what he was known for, after all.

_'He has Michael…Michael is in New York.'_ His eyes focused on the skyline, imagining all the crime and violence occurring on the streets below. All of the injustice occurring below that he couldn't stop to make the place safer. _'This is not the place for him. Mello, you once again let your emotions get the best of you. Can you not ignore them long enough to see where I've come from?'_

He sighed and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts began to fade back to the past once more, thinking over all the nights he'd laid in this bed. With Mello. Without him. With Michael in his belly, and without. Painful memories and good. It was hard to determine which ones were safe to rest upon and which weren't.

_'He's making a mistake. I got rid of him to fix our mistake and now he's bringing Michael back just to force me to face it. How does he not see things the way I do?'_ He sighed. _'As long as Michael stays with Mello, then there will be little risk of him being traced back to me, should anything happen.'_ But instantly his thoughts jumped back to the boy. _'It's not safe.'_

"Mello…what are you doing?" He asked the air, but finally turned over on his side, away from the window and closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to make every thought disappear for just long enough for him to sleep.

_'Why…'_ He thought to himself. _'Why did this mistake have to reappear now?'_ His thought died off as his consciousness fell away…

_Near was a realist. Reality was the only truth in the world that he could ever really rely on. Falling into fantasies only left one blinded, he'd always believed. But now, a part of him wished it was easier to let himself pretend. He had all the toys and the imagination in the world, and yet he couldn't bring himself to believe any lie that might help him to overlook reality._

_The paper sat on the table holding with it the weight of the entire world. The world that now felt shattered for him. Everything felt wrong and broken just from the words on the paper, just from the words that rebounded repeatedly around in his head._

_'How did I allow this to happen?' he asked himself for what had to be the hundredth time that night, a clenched fist pushing to his forehead in frustration. 'How could this happen? I should've…I could've…' His clenched fist dropped to his side where he stood in the middle of the living space inside the SPK building. 'If I had just said no…if I hadn't allowed him to…'_

_He berated himself for allowing things to ever get to this point. But more than anything he berated himself for not knowing what exactly he was going to do from that point forward._

_"I've read over your case file, and I understand the circumstances," the doctor he'd hired for this specific purpose had told him. "And based on that, and what the tests have shown, I have no doubt in confirming your suspicions…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, the words hard to process in his mind. "You're definitely pregnant…"_

_After it was confirmed, the doctor had given him the paper showing the results of the test that clearly confirmed it, as well as a schedule of when he should start seeing him regularly. Afterwards, Near had asked to be alone from Rester and the doctor. There was so much he had to process and come to terms with, and he wasn't sure where exactly to begin._

_Suddenly, from a side table there suddenly came the sound of vibrating from his phone. He looked over to see it was a blocked number, but even so, he knew perfectly well who it was trying to get a hold of him. 'Mello,' he thought to himself. 'How dare you call me right now. This is your fault. This is all your fault. I wouldn't be in this if you just knew how to control yourself!'_

_He ignored the phone's incessant vibrations on the table, going over instead to a pile of dice that lay on the floor in a desperate attempt to clear his mind. Perhaps, he considered, if he focused on the dice, it would better help him to clear his mind and focus on one issue at a time._

_He began stacking each die, carefully and tactfully to slowly create his own little city, as his thoughts divulged into the situation. 'What am I going to do?' he asked himself once more. 'I can't do this. I can't be expected to go through with this pregnancy. This is just a mistake that needs to be gotten rid of.'_

_Near placed another pair of dice on top of the stack. 'This isn't what was supposed to happen. This could ruin everything…I don't need this right now. I can't have this right now.' He sighed, looking down at the space between him and the dice._

_'I am not fortunate enough to be in the same position as any other woman would be. I can't keep it. I can't do it.' He paused, looking away from the dice to the window and the skyline and all of life passing on undisturbed outside of the pane of glass. 'There isn't a way for me to get an abortion…or even induce a miscarriage. It'd be too much risk for my own health. I can't put that in jeopardy.'_

_From the silence, suddenly came the sound of the vibrations on the table on the other side of the room. Dark eyes flicked over to the table. 'Stop trying to get a hold of me, Mello. It's not going to work. You've already caused enough damage here. I cannot allow this to continue and for you to ruin things anymore than you already have. It is for the best that you stay away from me from now on.'_

_He exhaled a heavy breath, looking away from the table where his phone rested. 'You can't know about this, Mello… I am not entirely certain I know what you would do. And because of that, I do not believe it would be wise for you to know of this development. As far as I am concerned, you will never know of this. It cannot come to light…'_

_He had to consider his next course of action. He couldn't get rid of this mistake. Thus, he'd have to keep it. At least for now. 'I can always dispose of it afterwards. And if anything happens before then…that is up to fate to decide, not myself.'_

_He looked down at his belly where he knew _it_ lay, growing and feeding off him like a parasite. The thought alone disgusted him. 'This is a mistake between two fools. It was not meant to be, but that doesn't mean I can't spare it an early death, or a meaningless existence.'_

_Suddenly he reached forward with a die between his fingers and knocked each tower down where they'd previously stood, feeling his own resolve falling with them. Alone in this building with this mistake he suddenly felt like the world's greatest failure. He felt tears brim his eyes, both at the frustration of having to deal with this and the anger of having let it happen. He refused to let them fall, however. 'I can do this,'_ _he told himself, his fist clenching around the die he'd been holding._

_'I have failed in remaining objective. But no longer will I allow that to be so. I'll…carry this mistake for the nine months. Then after…I'll make sure it was as though it never happened.'_

_His dark, glassy eyes flicked back over to the telephone. 'And this time you will not mess things up, Mello.'_

Near's dark grey eyes suddenly snapped open, his breath heavy and his body covered in a cold sweat. He sat up in bed, his head falling into his palm. _'That dream again…'_ He shook his head. _'That memory…why do I keep reliving it?'_ He sighed heavily in a desperate attempt to push it out of his mind.

But the more he sat there trying to clear his thoughts, the more they continued to flood into him. _'Mello messed things up again. As always…no matter what I do, he always has to meddle in my affairs and destroy everything I work for.'_

Instead of anger this time, however, there was wonder resting heavy on his heart. That little mistake he carried with him for nine months. The one he'd done everything possible to stay away from and keep from getting a hold of his heart. No matter how much he tried to not think about him, somehow Michael always found a way into his thoughts.

_'You have him now, Mello…'_ He stood up and went over to the bedside table, taking his phone and fumbling around with it between his fingers, feeling the cool material. _'What does he look like?'_ He shook away the thought and flipped the phone open, calling the familiar number.

_'Why am I calling him?'_ he asked himself even as it rang. _'Why can't I get any of this out of my mind? Everything was going perfectly until he had to come and ruin everything. If he had just kept that fact from me, we wouldn't have this issue.'_

The phone stopped ringing and suddenly beeped, insinuating to leave a voice message. Near was silent for a long moment, unsure of what it was he wanted, or why he was calling. He finally swallowed hard. "Call me when you get this, Mello. It's important…"

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><p>AN: Well, there you go, what did you think? Finally we have a look into Near's side of things and see that... yeah, he's being a bit heartless, but he's not a complete asshole, either. Or, maybe you still think he is? I know what I know about him, but what do you as the reader see from him thus far? I'm very interested to know any and all thoughts you have on their character progressions, so please leave a little comment and tell me both how I did, and what you're thinking. I would very much appreciate it! Also, a huge thank you to Belletrist Word Salad for your continuing help with each chapter! As always, let me know what you think!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	7. Wall

A/N: Sorry for the longer than normal wait for this chapter, everyone. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, though! I kind of put off writing this, because I'm starting to get freaked out over whether or not I'll be able to include all the necessary flashbacks. As fair warning, I might have to have some chapters that are _just_ flashbacks, just to make everything fit. Please bear with me... Alright, well, I worked really hard on this chapter, so please let me know what you think. I'll try to get to work on the next one soon, as well!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

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><p><span>Chapter 7:<span> Wall

_'Just one more level…'_ Matt told himself, quickly pressing the 'x' button to hit the targeted guard. _'Just one more…I've got this. I can do this. I just need to get into the castle, and then kill the head man. That's all I—'_ Three new guards suddenly appeared to help their fallen comrades.

_'What? You can't call for backup! That's cheating!'_ He glared down at the miniature screen held between his hands, turning his character and furiously pushing combo buttons in an attempt to better get rid of them. However, it seemed the more he knocked out, the more they appeared around the corner, the more his health was being depleted…

_'I can…Just one more…just need to…'_ But as his dying character ran, another guard ran up to catch him, shoving a sword through his character's stomach. Through orange goggles, Matt watched as the main character gave a guttural scream before falling to his knees and onto the stone floor.

GAME OVER.

He groaned, leaning back on the couch and looking at the monitors in front of him for the first time in what he guessed had to be at least twelve hours. A quick scan of them showed nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing interesting. He switched off his game and grabbed his smokes from his pocket.

_No more smoking in the apartment. Light that cigarette and I swear I'll burn you with it,_ Mello's words echoed inwardly. _'Oh yeah…Mr. Dad is being all overprotective of his son.'_ He sighed, standing up and looking around the apartment as he pulled his goggles up onto his head and off his eyes, observing the way the empty room was lit only by the rays of a midday sun. It warmed the apartment, but he knew well enough that it was still December out, which would still make it cold out.

_'I wonder where he went, anyway…I haven't seen him since he came in last night after visiting Near's,_ he reminded himself with a small shrug as he grabbed his abandoned vest from the back of a chair and slipped it on, heading out of the apartment to have a smoke, hoping that through that, it would calm his nerves enough to be able to beat his game.

Descending the floors, he exited out into a normally abandoned alleyway between their building and the one beside it, which was positioned on a quiet street. They might've been in the slums of New York, but at least it was quieter here.

He instantly spotted Mello sitting on the curb by the building, blue eyes watching Michael dribble a basketball, every once and a while trying to throw it into a makeshift metal basketball hoop that'd been made and put up on the opposite building's brick wall.

Michael instantly looked over at him, grey eyes glittering in the sun. His cheeks were flushed from the activity and the bracing cold weather, though it hardly seemed to be bothering him too much as he'd abandoned his coat off to the side, running around instead in just his jeans and a short sleeved shirt. "Hey Uncle Matt!" Michael called, waving at him. "Watch this, watch this!" He took the basketball and threw it with all his might to try and get it through the hoop, though it just fell short, bouncing off and back at him.

Matt chuckled. "Good try, Michael. Keep working at it and you'll be a basketball star one day!" he told him with a smile, going over and sitting next to his friend. "You've got one crazy kid, Mels. What're you thinking letting him run around out here without a jacket on?" he berated lightly as he pulled out his cigarettes and lighter.

Mello's azure orbs moved over to him. "And what are you, his mother?" he chided. "I gave him an old one of mine to wear, but he won't do it. Says it's not cold." He sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them, his eyes again fading even as they followed Michael around the alleyway. "He's going to catch a cold."

Matt shrugged. "Yeah, but who does that remind you of?" he said with a knowing grin.

Mello's brow raised in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Matt chuckled. "Oh, I don't know…just that I distinctly remember a mini-you wanting to play outside in the middle of January in less than what Michael's wearing just because Roger told you you couldn't."

Mello scoffed. "It's different!"

"Why, because you're actually his father and care whether he gets sick or not?" Matt teased, taking a drag of his cigarette and letting his eyes go back to Michael. Things fell quiet between the two genii for a long minute before Matt flicked off a piece of ash from his cigarette. "So…what happened with Near?"

Mello's eyes hardened. "I don't want to talk about it!"

"You're the one who said you were going to tell me today, Mels. Come on, now. Could it really be that bad? Anything less than what you were expecting?" He put the white stick to his lips again.

"I don't know _what_ I was expecting," Mello admitted, his eyes remaining averted from Matt. "I just wanted answers. I wasn't even going to tell the bastard I had Michael. It just kind of slipped out…" The blonde lowered his head to his arms that were now folded together on his knees, reliving the cold fear when he had, for the first time, watched Near stop, turn, and be completely taken aback by something he'd done. For the first time, Near had miscalculated.

"What did he do?" Matt asked, watching Mello carefully.

"Told me that I was a fool, basically." The blonde's head rose suddenly. "Some nerve! He abandons our kid and then tells me _I'm_ the fool for wanting him?" His fist clenched. "Even if the asshole did tell me I could have him…" He cut himself off, shaking his head as if to force the words from being uttered. "As if I need his permission to raise my own son." Blue eyes looked out to Michael, who was still dribbling the ball, trying to make the hoop.

Michael had said he liked soccer, but the only thing out here for him to play with was an abandoned basketball. He'd never played basketball before, but he was a smart boy, and had quickly gotten the gist of it. Mello smiled momentarily, overtaken by a wave of pride.

"Is he…going to be involved or anything?" Matt had to ask, though knowing the younger genius, chances of that were slim to none.

Mello shook his head. "No…"

"Are you just going to take that?"

Blue orbs flicked over to the smoker. "What do you mean?"

Matt took a long drag of his cigarette before pulling the stick away from his lips and speaking as the smoke escaped them. "Are you just going to let him not be involved with him? That's not really fair to Michael, is it? Especially with the way your life _revolves_ around Near…"

Mello bit his tongue to keep himself from shouting how his life _didn't_ revolve around the youngest successor for in the back of his mind, he knew it was true. Whenever his thoughts were left to their own devices, they always fell onto Near. That fact was nearly doubled now that Michael was involved.

"Michael wants to meet him," Mello stated simply, without answering Matt's question. Because honestly, he didn't _have_ an answer. "He thinks he did something to cause Near to not want him."

"You mean besides existing at all?"

Mello shoved Matt, toppling him over to the concrete and glaring daggers into him. "Don't you ever—!"

"Calm down, Mels! You know I'm just kidding," Matt chuckled, righting himself into a sitting position once more. "But…" his tone died back down into seriousness as green eyes looked out to Michael, "you know it probably is true. That probably is what Near thinks. You know how he is. Distant. Cold. _Objective_. Michael probably would've stood in his way."

"Matt…" Mello muttered quietly. "I already heard it from him last night. I can't hear that again."

The friends lapsed into silence, Matt's emerald eyes looking over at Mello who still watched his son play by himself. He put his dying cigarette between his lips and slung an arm around his best friend's shoulders. "What I'm trying to get at, Mello, is that you can't just let Near decide that he's not going to be in Michael's life! You have to at least fight back! You have to change his mind. If anyone can get inside that guy's head, it's you!"

Mello couldn't help chuckling, but instantly the logistics of the situation destroyed the lightheartedness of Matt's comment. "I would, Matt, but I can't do that. He was genuinely…shocked when he found out. He told me he wouldn't interfere with my raising him, but I don't know what he might do if I try to force that on him. I'd hate to see what he could pull on me when he's backed into a corner…"

Matt's eyes narrowed. "Look at Michael, Mello. Are you just going to let him go through his life thinking _he_ did something to cause this? Are you going to let him grow up holding a grudge against you for knowing and getting to see Near when _he_ couldn't?"

Mello drew back. "No…"

"Then you need to get back there and leave him no other option but to see Michael! You have to get in his head and convince him that he's wrong, and that this is his best course of action! _Lie_ to him if you have to!"

"I don't want to lie to him! I want him to genuinely _want_ to see the son he gave birth to!" Mello retorted instantly, remaining pulled back from Matt.

Matt pulled back and patted his friend's shoulder reassuringly. "Desperate times, my friend! With Near, you have no other choice but to pull out every stop."

Mello finally sighed. "Alright, alright, fine." Pulling away from Matt, he dug in his jacket pocket for his phone. "I'll call Near and see if there's anything we can set up. He seemed pretty intent on not seeing me anymore, though."

However, before he got the chance to open the red flip phone and dial the number for the SPK building, he heard Michael's voice call to him, taking his attention away.

"Daddy!"

Blue eyes shot up instantly to Michael, who stood beside the abandoned basketball, one arm reaching around to the other and scratching at it, his face sad and pained. "My arms hurt..." he complained pitifully.

Mello broke from Matt's grip and stood up instantly, going closer and kneeling in front of Michael, confusion written on his face. "What do you mean your arms hurt, Michael?" he asked, taking the boy's left arm that had been scratching the right and looking the exposed pale flesh over.

Upon observation, he saw that the skin was a light pink instead of its normal creamy pale. His confusion turned into shock at what saw before him, his eyes looking back at Michael's sad and confused ones. "Why does it hurt, Daddy?" the boy asked quietly as Matt stood from his spot and walked over to the two, watching from behind him.

"It looks like you have sunburn on your arms, Michael," Mello commented quietly. "How could you burn this easily? We were barely out here a half hour."

Matt scoffed. "Sunburn in December. Who'd have thought?"

Mello didn't respond, but suddenly scooped his son from the ground, standing and heading to the door leading back into their apartment. Michael instantly struggled against him. "No! I wanna keep playing! It doesn't hurt, Daddy! I promise! Please? I wasn't done playing!"

"No," Mello replied firmly. "I don't want you to get burned anymore than you are now. I promise I'll bring you back out to play soon, Michael. Alright?"

Matt followed after, quickly picking up the abandoned coat Mello'd brought for Michael that was by the wall. "And hey! You know, while you wait to go outside, you can always play video games with me! I'll teach you how to play them."

"No, Matt," the elder blonde deadpanned.

"Why not?"

"You're already a bad enough influence on Michael!" he chided, only half serious, but knowing it'd deflate the gamer's ego.

-:-

"Stop scratching. That'll only make it worse." Mello told his son as he sat him up on the sink counter in the apartment then kneeled down to look in the cupboard for the aloe gel that could be used for Michael's burn. He knew they had some; he'd used it for his own burn after the explosion at his base.

Michael fussed, kicking his legs in frustration. "Why did I get a sunburn?" he pouted, folding his arms together and sneaking in moments of scratching when he thought his father or his uncle Matt, who was leaning on the doorframe, wasn't looking.

Matt shrugged. "My guess would be that you have Near's skin. That sucks…what a bad combination…" he mused out loud to himself, watching Michael's grey eyes shoot down to Mello.

"What's that mean? Am I gonna be able to go play outside again, Daddy?" he asked, panicky now, his eyes pleading to be allowed to do one thing he, like any four-year-old boy, lived for.

Mello couldn't meet his son's pleading look. "Matt, go away! You're not helping!" he scolded, turning just enough to give Matt a glare before resuming his search, pushing aside bottles of various liquids.

"Fine, fine. Just trying to help," Matt said, turning and heading away from the bathroom.

The small room lapsed into silence between the two blondes, but Matt's words had struck a chord with Mello. _'He has Near's skin…but my desire to be outside and be active.'_ He sighed. _'Matt's right…what a terrible combination for him. I wonder if he has the physical ability to be as active as me or just the will to do it…'_ He shook off that thought, finally grabbing a bottle of blue gel from the side of the cabinet and standing up, only to find Michael looking down to the floor, downtrodden. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked carefully.

"I'm not gonna be able to play outside any more, am I?" Michael asked quietly, sadly, looking down at his feet that hung off the counter.

"What do you say that for? Of course you're going to be able to!" Mello reassured him. "Though, you probably shouldn't during winter, you know. You'll get sick, and if you're anything like I was as a kid…I know you won't want that," Mello told him with a small grin as he popped open the lid to the bottle and squirted some of it into his hand to put on Michael's arms.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the way his son's grey eyes darted from him to the floor then back again; a sign of nervousness, he knew. "What is it?" he finally asked, taking the small amount of gel and gently beginning to rub it on the young boy's exposed forearms.

"Um…" Michael looked away from Mello, and blue eyes watched as the boy's little hand rose, tugging on a single lock of light blonde hair. "Am I gonna…have a mark like yours? On my arms?" he asked hesitantly.

Mello was confused for a moment, then realized what Michael was talking about: his scar. He swallowed, and exhaled a heavy breath. He hated to talk about it or acknowledge that it was even there. But at the same time, he couldn't do that with his four-year-old son, who of course would be inquisitive about such a thing.

"Of course not," he replied. "The only way you could get a mark like this, Michael, is if you play with fire. They tell you not to for a reason. Learn from what I did and just don't do it. It's not worth it."

He watched as a small smile grew across his son's face, lighting it up in the same way playing outside for the first time since he'd gotten to New York had. The boy giggled. "Of course I don't play with fire! Why did you, Daddy? Did no one tell you that that was bad?"

Mello chuckled, going back to putting the soothing gel on Michael's left arm before repeating the action with his right. "No, that's not what happened. Maybe when you're older I'll tell you the story of what happened. But for now, let's fix this little sunburn you have, alright?"

Michael nodded, but the silence between them didn't last long before his inquisitive eyes looked back at his father. "What's wrong with my Mama's skin?"

Mello stopped. "What?"

"Uncle Matt said that I have skin like my Mama. So…what's wrong with it? Why did this happen?" he elaborated, shrugging his small shoulders and kicking his feet lightly back and forth against the cupboard.

The elder blonde took a moment to think that one over. "Well…Near…has sensitive skin, that's all. Your mother never really went outside either. And since you have the same skin color and sensitivity as Near's, I'm guessing it's just a genetic thing. Something that you and Near were born with," he explained as best he could.

"Oh…" Michael muttered quietly, then looked away for another moment. "Am I really gonna meet my Mama like you promised?"

Mello's heart fell at his son's question. He hated himself for making those kinds of promises when he couldn't be completely sure he'd be able to live up to them. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to break Michael's little heart and tell him that he didn't know. So instead he swallowed hard and muttered, "Yeah. After we're done here, I'm going to call Near about setting something up."

The younger's face lit up again. "Really! I hope she wants to see me and that I'll get to!" he exclaimed excitedly, his feet kicking back and forth even more now.

Mello chuckled, finishing putting the gel on the boy's right arm. "Alright. I think you're done, Michael. Does it feel better?"

The boy nodded.

"Good. You can play inside for the next couple of days till we see how that sunburn does. And then we'll talk about when you can play outside again, alright?"

Michael nodded his head furiously. "Are you gonna call my Mama now?" His eyes were bright and full of a twinkle only possible for children still ignorant towards the real world, untainted by the evil and corruption of mankind.

He nodded. "Yeah, I am. I might have to see Near, though, before that happens, okay? Can you be patient with me for a while, Michael?" Again the boy nodded. "Alright, good." He leaned closer and placed a kiss on the top of his boy's head before picking him up and putting him down. "Now go bug Matt while I call."

Michael smiled and turned. "Okay! Thanks, Daddy!" he called as he ran out.

Mello shook his head with a smile across his face as he leaned against the sink counter and pulled out his phone once more, flipping it open. However, before he could make any move to call the building, he noticed the flashing message across the screen. 'One new voice message'.

Confused, he accepted the message and put it to his ear, his eyes widening the moment he heard that familiar monotone voice. _'You're…calling me, Near? What could be so important now?'_ he wondered to himself, different variables running through his mind as he exited his voice mailbox and dialed the number to reach Near at the SPK. _'Only one way to find out…'_

The phone rang only a few times before it clicked and was answered. Mello instantly felt his heart clench. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? Talking to Near had suddenly become such an awkward thing now…

"This is Near," came that calm, collected voice that held all the stability in the world. A quality Mello always envied him for…

Mello swallowed hard and put up his usual confident façade. "You called?"

There was a pause on the other end, to which Mello could almost see those dark and empty eyes looking away for a moment as he twirled a single lock of white hair. "Yes, I did."

"Well this is my returning your 'important' call. What do you want? I'm pretty busy, you know. I have my own investigation to worry about, as well as other _responsibilities,_" he stated, still holding up that image as best he could.

"Right…" Near replied in his usual neutral manner. "I'm sure I'm quite positive in assuming the case is your main priority." He exhaled, but gave Mello no opportunity to cut in before saying, "Come now, Mello. Let's not turn this into an argument. I actually called in order to ask you to come by later. I'd like to discuss the case with you."

Mello's heart instantly dropped. _'He wants to talk about the case? Why?'_ He sighed. _'He's remaining on target…of course. He can't even just let it go in order to deal with this situation.'_ Looking away, he had to wonder. _'Maybe…he's pushing the situation away because he doesn't know how to deal with it?'_

"Mello?"

"Yeah, fine," he instantly replied, his attention back to the matter at hand. He grinned. "You reconsidered your position and want me to bring _him_ with me, this time?"

"Please don't be foolish, Mello. This is a serious matter and does not warrant your humor at this time."

The small grin remained as blue eyes closed. "So Michael and I will be there around ten, then?"

"Mello."

"Yeah, yeah…I'll be there." He sighed, standing straight and clicking off the phone while feeling a bit of his earlier will to get Near to see Michael diminishing. Either Near was putting up a damn good front to keep any desire he had to see his son back, or he really was just that separated from the situation and didn't want anything to do with him at all. He hated that more and more, Near made him think it was the latter.

Even so, he had to force himself to put that away, and realize that there really was only one way to find out the truth: to take Matt's advice and go to him. There, he could talk, pry, push those buttons and see just what kind of responses Near gave him.

It was time to beat Near at his own game. Manipulation at its best.

-:-

Mello was beginning to think everything between himself and Near would be awkward from now on. It used to be, before all of this, that things needed to be said, but neither of them could acknowledge any of it in order to address it. Things were just better for them that way. But now, it felt like too _many_ words were hanging around them, clogging the air, suffocating them more and more, and neither of them knew what to do about it.

Sitting in that living area with such a tense silence between them almost made Mello want to just get up and walk out. It wasn't worth it. It was obvious that neither of them knew where to start. They both had things they wanted to say to each other, and the Kira case had become nothing more than a clever ruse to hide the real issue at hand.

"According to Mr. Aizawa of the NPA, there were originally _two_ suspects in the Kira case. One of them is the second L; the other is Misa Amane," Near finally spoke, though the words seemed to have no effect on the atmosphere.

Mello sighed, unable to take this any longer. It was hard enough for him to sit here, everything jumbled in his mind without Near trying to keep them behind the false belief of being here just for Kira. Or perhaps Near was there just for the case, and it was the elder successor making it an issue.

"Michael's still asking to see you," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Near never faltered from where he sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by cards he slowly constructed into a wall before him. "That's not what we're here to discuss tonight, Mello. There are more important things to deal with."

"Kira is important, but not as important as our son. He begs me to see you and thinks he did something wrong. I told him I'd talk to you, and I'd bring him to see you."

"You should know better than to make promises you can't keep, Mello." Near placed another set of stacked cards on top of his growing wall, his dark eyes, much like his focus, never moving from the task before him. "In any case, I originally sent him to Wammy's for him to someday become my successor. That was the idea before you got involved."

"He could still be your successor without you having to cut yourself off from him. He's not going to reveal you to anyone, or say anything that'd give your identity away. He just wants to know who his mother is!"

Near paused, looked over at Mello with a blank stare before his orbs moved back to the cards. "If Michael is to someday become my successor, he has to learn not to get emotionally invested. Not even family members."

"He's only four years old, Near. Of course he's going to be 'emotionally invested' in his _family_. Especially since he just learned he even _had_ one after growing up being told he didn't!"

"At the same age he is, I learned to no longer invest in _my_ family. There is no reason why he cannot do the same."

"There's a difference between you two, Near."

"Oh?" Near stopped a moment as the conversation between them began to get heated. Both knew that this was not going to end well for them and at the same time, they both found themselves unable to stop themselves or each other. Somehow all the pent up frustration and anger at everything began to seep between the normally well-maintained cracks in the foundation. "Enlighten me, dear Mello."

"You didn't have people who actually _cared_ about you as more than a lab rat. Not to mention your son actually has the heart and capacity to _forgive."_

Near was quiet a moment and in that second, it was impossible for even Mello to read whatever the younger might've been feeling. "If he's as much like me as you say he is, his bleeding heart will dry out soon enough." Grey eyes moved away, but his hands remained on his knees, refusing to pick up where he'd left off.

"You might be surprised how far that unconditional love will go. Besides, could you really allow your own kid to be reduced to such a state that he becomes like you? Do you really want that sort of life and existence for him when you could give him all the things you…_we_ didn't have?"

Grey eyes slowly lowered to the floor, remaining icy and empty. "Like what?"

"Like _love_! Like knowing that people out there care about him!"

"Are you not providing him with those already? Or are you doubting your own skills?" Near questioned, still in his place.

"I am, but he knows you exist. He knows you're alive, Near. And he wants to know you, too. He thinks _he_ did something to cause you to not want him. Can you really live with that?"

"I'm sure he'll eventually figure out that that's not the case. Unless, of course, one would count his mere existence as his crime," the younger genius commented smoothly as his careful fingers went up to thread through his locks of hair.

Mello was silent for a long moment, unable to fathom what Near had just said. He'd known a different Near than the one that sat in front of him. He'd known one with a heart and a soul, that loved and hated, was fearful and pained, all without ever breaking composure in the toughest of situations. It was when they were alone that that composure was broken. It was something in the art of isolation from the rest of the world that broke down the boy's walls.

But this was different. It was as if his body was here, with no soul to feel or be anything but a shade of what Mello once saw in him. "You're heartless," Mello said, unable to hold back the tremble in his voice. "And here I thought you were actually capable of more than that."

Near exhaled, reaching out a hand that wasn't tied in his white locks to gently flick the wall of cards he'd built before him and watch them collapse to the ground. "Then you were mistaken, dear Mello." His eyes refused to meet the blue, turning them instead to gaze out the window, as if remaining looking away kept him from having to completely face the situation.

"Stop saying that. You have no right."

"Oh? Don't I?" Something in Near's tone felt taunting, as if daring to see how far he could push Mello.

"No. Such a familiar term should be reserved for someone who actually gives a damn about something other than themselves."

"I do," Near replied, his fingers remaining twirled in his hair. "That's why I'm doing everything in my power to bring Kira to justice. Or have you forgotten about that?" He asked, turning a bit back to the blonde, his dark eyes glinting in the light from the outside.

"You're not doing it for him. You're doing it because that's what's expected of you as L."

"You weren't doing it for him either," Near instantly retorted, his eyes moving to the floor. "You were doing it for your own aggrandizement, to prove once and for all that you're better than me."

"I _am_ better than you," Mello said, quietly, azure eyes remaining fixed on the younger's back.

Minutes passed, an eternity, as Mello waited for Near to do something, anything to show what was going through his mind, to give him something to work with. But instead, Near only said this: "If you've nothing more relevant to say, then your presence here is pointless."

And that was that. Near wasn't giving in. Not tonight. Possibly never. Picking up pieces of a heart that was once again broken for their son, Mello stood and turned to pick up his jacket before heading towards the door. Reaching for the doorknob, he turned to look at Near one last time. And once he did, he saw something that truly gave him pause: a single tear trailing down his rival's face.

Near hadn't budged from his spot, merely reaching one hand out for the mess of cards on the floor and beginning to rebuild the wall around him. Mello found himself beginning to wonder in that second if the wall of cards was more literal than he'd ever given it credit for. Fragile and full of holes, but a wall of protection nonetheless.

His rivals every feature remained completely solid and perfectly aligned even when he sensed the lingering presence of his rival.

"Please go."

Only then did Mello leave, closing the door softly behind him, his mind ringing with so many thoughts, and chief among them this: _What do I tell Michael now?_

* * *

><p>AN: Well, there you go. There's the new chapter. I originally had the meeting longer than it was here, but my wonderful beta stopped me at the last minute and talked some sense into me. So, the rest of it will be saved for a later meeting. We'll see what happens. Anyway, there was more view from Mello's side. Slowly I'd like to start showing more from Near's, but even so, there was some view of what he was thinking, here, obviously by the end. So... what's going to happen? Guess we'll see! Let me know what you think!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	8. Lost

A/N: This chapter is just a flashback chapter, because I feel like it needs to be done, so that everyone knows what happened here, and how all of this started, I guess. After this, I'll feel a little better about some of the other flashbacks I want to do, and won't feel like I'm skipping anything or leaving anything out. Now, that's not to say this is just filler or not important or anything. Trust me, it is important. So please let me know what you think of this chapter! Also, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! You're all wonderful! Also, my beta is wonderful as well! What would I do without you and your manipulation?

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story, with the exception of Michael.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 8:<span> Lost

_It was pouring rain the first night that Mello relented and swallowed his pride enough to take Near up on his offer, for right now, he had nowhere else to go. He would've liked to say he'd gone there as a test, to see if Near would really keep his word, or maybe even say that he just wanted to get information from the younger successor. But the truth was that that wasn't the case, for he'd truly had no other option that night. What it'd come down to was either calling Near or be left bleeding on the streets. _

_His plans to further his involvement in the mafia had gone awry. He'd spoken to the wrong people, done the wrong things, and jumped before the time was right. And finally, one moment of blurred senses was all it took. All things considered, he knew he deserved more than the bullet wound in his left upper arm._

_In any other circumstance he knew he'd never stomach the idea of asking his competitor for help, but with a bounty now on his head, the entire city felt like it was closing in on him. Nowhere was nearly as safe as Near's headquarters right now._

_It's just for tonight, he told himself, gritting his teeth as he forced himself into the close proximity of the one being who always seemed so transcendent to the world around him._

_Riding the elevator, he felt his pulse quickening. A part of him wondered if that was in response to the sheer unknowing of what would happen, or if it was his adrenalin responding to the bullet wound and loss of blood._ _He tried to take a steady breath, but it came out shaky and unsure at best. He tried to ignore the truth—that he'd once again made a wrong move and paid for it—but the constant weight of his life rested heavier than ever. _

_At moments like this, he told himself it was too much, that this was a fruitless attempt at a prize that would never be his. And yet something continued to drive him onwards. Something powerful. Something strong and confident. Something small and white. Something that had poisoned him long ago and left him seemingly without control of his own mind or body._

_The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to a dimly lit hallway. 'Go to the twentieth floor. Down the hall and through the first door on the left'. That was what Near told him, casual as ever. As if he'd known all along and was just lying in wait. Mello didn't put it past him. He knew his rival enough to safely say that that would be just like him. _

_The thought used to piss him off as a child, the thought that no matter what he did it was always expected and always had a perfect response planned in retaliation. But now he was an adult and he'd tried to abandon childish things with those years of painful memories. Nowadays, he came to expect nothing less, and learned to plan accordingly. In a way, it made him feel like his and Near's relationship, if he dared call it that, ran a lot smoother._

_He hated the younger successor. God, did he hate him. But he'd come to realize that Near would always remain his opponent and considering that fact, he was better off competing and learning to live with it than just fighting blindly. That wasn't to say his attempts were always perfect, but at least he could say he tried._

_Entering through the door led him into a living area, with a small kitchen space to the left and a living area divided from the rest by an L-shaped couch. 'How fitting'. _

_Near was sitting on the floor. Mello's blue eyes quickly found him and narrowed, his need to prove himself in the right shooting through the roof. Of course, he knew that that would inevitably be put in question as it was running down his arm and dripping off his fingertips._

_Looking over, his eyes caught sight of a dial by the door which controlled the lights to the entire space. With his good arm, he reached over and spun the dial, killing all artificial light in the area, leaving only the dull lights from the city outside and the sound of rain on the tall windows. Maybe that darkness would hide his shame and obvious mistakes._

_The blonde successor remained in place by the door and bit his lip, not knowing what to say or do. Inwardly, he knew he should've expected this awkward tension between him and his competition after not speaking for an entire year since the offer had originally been posed to him and he'd left Wammy's._

_After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch forever, the sole other occupant of the room finally broke the tension."Good evening, Mello. It's good of you to come see me tonight. You came sooner than I had expected." _

_Blue eyes narrowed further at the other's diverted gaze. He knew what Near meant. 'It's interesting that you have decided to come here, tonight.' Already, the new L was analyzing him and the situation. He gritted his teeth and tried to calm himself instead of lashing out as he normally would._

_"Right…well, it's a shame it couldn't have been under better circumstances," he replied, playing along with Near's cover-up. _

_A glimmer of confusion briefly flashed in Near's eyes as he finally looked over to Mello for the first time. Seeing Mello in the shame he was in, he finally understood. "You got yourself shot," he commented, standing from his spot in the middle of the floor and moving over to a side door. "Please sit over on the tile," he instructed smoothly before disappearing through the door._

_Mello sighed, grabbing a lone chair and going to set it on the tile in the small kitchen area. Near's composure never faltered, Mello mused to himself as he looked more closely at Near's living space. It was a simple space, and not surprisingly, showed little evidence that it was ever actually lived in. _

_'Doubt he uses this place for anything other than sleeping.' Mello scoffed, 'Ungrateful bastard…'_

_"I apologize but there is not too much here that'd be able to treat your wound as effectively as others might, Mello. However, you may use what's available. To be honest, though, you should have gone to the hospital rather than here. That was quite irresponsible of you." Mello glared at the other as he walked over to him with a white first aid box._

_"All they would do is bandage me up and send me home, Near. Right now I don't exactly _have_ one of those. And with the bounty on my head…"_

_Near's eyes flooded with silent wonder and question. Mello could read all the things Near wouldn't ask him, for one reason or another, and yet he could'nt bring himself to call him out on that. No matter how good it would make him feel, what mattered above all else was the fact that he was here and for now, he'd rather pretend he wasn't living the life he was._

_"I see," Near replied, seeing that Mello obviously didn't want to talk about it. He handed the box over to him. "Use this as you will," he said as Mello took the offered medical aid._

_His gaze remained on Near for another moment, watching him shift awkwardly in place and finally reach to twirl a lock of hair. He couldn't help a small smile, feeling the sense of nostalgia wash over him. Near never changed, but then again, perhaps he didn't either. Perhaps they'd be forever locked in a state of frozen time, the rest of the world flashing by with them as mere spectators._

_With a heavy exhale, he turned to start working on his wound. Carefully he shifted and pulled off the black jacket he'd been wearing, wincing with a small hiss at the pain of the shredded fabric being pulled away from the bleeding wound. He dropped the destroyed jacket carelessly on the floor and for the first time dared to look at just what the damage to his arm was._

_The bullet had grazed his left bicep, not enough to lodge the bullet in him, but enough to cause some damage. A carefully planned shot, his trained eye was sure, an act done deliberately to inflict damage, yet not render the victim with too many repercussions. 'Dammit… they want me alive.' He swallowed, diverting his eyes and grabbing a cloth from inside the white medical box and pressed it to the wound to soak up the excess blood. He hissed once more, pulling it away from the pain that shot through the area and up his body. "Dammit…" _

_Suddenly, he felt the cloth be taken from his hand. His eyes shot from the wound to where Near was now standing before him, his dark eyes not meeting his own, just locked and focused on his wound. "What are you doing?" Mello asked, himself now full of questions._

_"If this wound is not sealed up, you'll end up bleeding all over the floor. I would appreciate it if the carpet was not stained anymore than it already is." At first glance, Near's words came across as reprimanding and condescending. But that emotion didn't strike Mello. He could see beyond the words, to Near's own personal humor in the statement. He knew what Near was getting at. 'You're a wuss.'_

_He glared at him, but did not protest as the cloth was once again pressed to the area, but gentler this time, Near's careful and dexterous fingers handling the area with the utmost care. "It's not that serious, you bastard." _

_"Exactly," Near replied instantly with a small smirk. "If I let you continue doing it your way, it will get that serious." Again, Mello could hear that he was only half serious._

_"Whatever," Mello relented with a sigh as he looked away. _

_There was another long silence between them. There was an air of tension as well, questions hanging that remained unanswered. Mello swallowed hard, wondering if he should say anything, or bring any of those questions up. But as he closed his eyes and the sensation of Near's cool fingers and the soft cloth cleaning his wound intensified, he decided that as long as Near wasn't asking him anything, then he had no right to bring up his own._

_He cringed briefly as the cloth was pushed to his wound. 'This isn't right…' he found himself thinking. 'This can't be what life was supposed to be for me. For either of us.' _

_He let his thoughts trail on. Instead of being of the headquarters, it became his home—somewhere he could feel safe. Instead of Near, there was a wife, taking care of an accidental wound. A simpler life, one he wanted to last as long as possible…_

_"You bring this on yourself, Mello," Near's quiet voice cut through his fantasy. Mello's eyes slipped open on the floor, his mind now focusing on Near's touch on his arm. It still hurt to be messed with, but somehow Near made it bearable. His touch was unbelievably gentle with him, as if he'd done this before, or didn't want to hurt him in any way. 'If only that was the reason…' Mello mused._

_"How exactly do you figure that?" he asked, his tone devoid of emotion, still annoyed that his peaceful moment had been taken from him._

_"Think about it. You've always been careless, even to the disregard of your own well-being," Near said seriously, dropping the bloodied cloth to take some gauze and ointment from the box. _

_The blonde contemplated whether or not Near was saying these things to purposefully get him worked up, but he quickly dismissed the thought, giving Near the benefit of the doubt. For now. "My own well-being is nowhere near as important as getting back in the game." He felt those dark eyes watching and analyzing everything he had to say. It was an overbearing feeling that made him shudder in annoyance; but in his own way, he was used to that._

_"If you die, though, then you will have lost the game."_

_Mello shook his head. "The question at that point becomes did I win the game through my own defeat? That would be what mattered, in the end."_

_"That's quite the paradox, Mello."_

_"Indeed."_

_The two lapsed back into silence and again Mello let his eyes close, trying to recapture the peaceful image of a life he could only wish he had. However, the image wouldn't come this time. All he saw this time was the black abyss behind his eyelids. No matter how much he wanted it, or tried to envision it, he found himself stuck in reality. There was just nothing for him to grasp onto in order to make that image feel real, for even just one moment._

_Suddenly he hissed loudly at the feeling of a bandage being placed directly over his wound. "Dammit, Near! Not so hard!" he lashed out, partially from the pain and partially in annoyance at not being able to reclaim his moment of ease._

_"I apologize," Near replied quietly."I'm being as gentle as I can." Mello stopped at the inkling of remorse he heard in Near's tone. It was only a moment, and almost instantly Mello wondered if he had even heard anything there at all._

_"Why were you shot?" Near's voice was quieter this time, as if acknowledging the sensitive territory he was treading onto. Mello sighed heavily. He should've known that'd never escape Near's inquiries._

_"I don't want to talk about it." He looked away from Near to the side wall._

_"You're ashamed."_

_"What do I have to be ashamed of?" If Near could hold his mask of constant composure, then why couldn't he, Mello, hold his own mask of pride and confidence?_

_"You are ashamed that you have allowed this to happen to you, Mello." Near told him. "This is another mistake to you. I know how much you hate to lose or make mistakes. I know how you see things. Just as you know me, Mello, I know how you think as well."_

_Mello gritted his teeth at the surety of Near's every word. His eyes narrowed on the wall."If you know me so well, than can't you just figure out what happened to me on your own?"_

_"I can attempt to. But I feel any accuracies I might achieve might frustrate you more. In any case, they would only be vague guesses, considering I do not know how the mafia works nearly as well as you must. Besides…I would like to hear that story from you, Mello." There was an honest sense of wonder in his voice, which made Mello's blue eyes slowly move over to his rival. All this emotion he was hearing in him…maybe it was just something he'd learned to hear in Near, but on the other hand, he had to wonder if Near was actually allowing such feelings to be shown to him as well._

_Finally, he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through blonde locks. "I'd love to say I went down in a hail of bullets," he said with a small grin. "I'd love to say I got hit by a stray bullet defending some noble cause for justice."_

_"I believed we were beyond petty lies, Mello."_

_"But," Mello continued, ignoring Near, "that's not what happened. It was stupid. I was so stupid!" he scolded himself, eyes closing as his adrenaline coursed through his veins once more at the memory. "I don't have the resources you do, Near. I have to get all of it myself. Which is why I'm even in this damn business." His good hand reached down and clutched the cross at the end of his rosary. "I was following a mob boss. I was trying to get in good, so I could kill him and prove to more powerful mafia sects that I wasn't one to be taken lightly."_

_"And they figured it out…" Near put a fresh bandage on Mello's wound and began taping it into place._

_Mello nodded. "I let information slip of the others that I wouldn't have already known. I just wanted to get what I came for and get out as quick as possible. Well they weren't just going to let me run, of course." He sighed. "I'm sure you can assume the rest…"_

_"You couldn't have just manipulated someone else into getting it for you?" Near wondered, finishing taping off the wound and stepping back, looking over his completed work._

_"I'm not that high up, Near. I don't have any room to be giving orders to anyone, or manipulating anyone who might be owned by different sects. If they figured out I used any of their men, it wouldn't be good. Not to mention, getting someone else to kill a mafia boss doesn't send a good image of me, to the others. It doesn't show that I'm willing to do what it takes."_

_Near took a step back, moving instead to stand before the blonde instead of beside him. Very carefully, he dared to reach a hand out and touch Mello's cheek, his cool fingers contrasting to Mello's warm skin. He moved to carefully bring Mello's eyes back to him. _

_It was when those cerulean orbs met endless grey that he finally saw him. He was unable to look him in the eyes for very long without diverting them again, in his own way afraid of what he'd see behind those big orbs. He instead caught sight of red. His rival's hands and the ends of his sleeves were dyed in shades of pink and red. His blood. _

_Instantly his eyes shot back to Near's. Near'd soiled himself with his tainted blood just to help him. Such an untouchable figure had descended from on high to mend his broken soul. Perhaps that was the case all along. He felt his breath catch in his throat as his sense of judgment became lost in the divinity placed before him. _

_"You must take care, Mello," Near said, his voice calm and soothing to the blonde. "Kira is one thing, but the mafia is something completely different. That is something that you cannot save yourself from just by hiding your name and photo. Take the time you need to get where you need to be—"_

_"I don't have that kind of time!"_

_"You have to have patience. I am positive you will get back into this race with me to catch Kira, Mello, but first you must achieve such a ranking in order to obtain the means to do so. If you allow yourself to be careless like this, who knows if you will be so lucky the next time. I know you are better than this, Mello. I know you are a better detective than to let yourself get killed by the mafia."_

_Near's words flooded Mello's entire being, filling him with a warm sensation of confidence in his abilities. And yet at the same time just looking into Near's eyes made him feel defeated all in the same moment, as though even with Near's belief in him, he still didn't have any chance in getting to the place he needed to be in to compete with Near, let alone catching Kira._

_His eyes moved down, closing to cut off the feeling of Near staring at him. "I need a break…I can't do this. This isn't how things were supposed to be!"_

_The younger's other hand moved up to fully cup Mello's face, his head tilted to the side as he tried to understand what Mello was getting at with his statements. "You will do this, Mello. You are stubborn and you do not give up. Even if this wasn't what things were supposed to be like for us, we must take the cards we're handed and play the game accordingly."_

_Everything was a game to Near, Mello mused to himself. He was beginning to wonder if that made things easier for him to get through the day and live with the way things were, much like his imagination allowed him that peace of mind, even for just a second. He wanted that so badly…It was the only thing that helped drive him._

_"I need a break…"_

_"That's why you're here."_

_"You can't give me what I need." Mello shook his head._

_"You will do what you must in order to get what you need, Mello, whether I can give it or not." Near easily rebutted, and again Mello could hear the question in his voice as he tried to analyze Mello and figure out what exactly it was he needed._

_Mello slowly looked back up at Near. "I'll do what I must…" he repeated, almost silently. Near just nodded, as if suddenly reading Mello's mind and knowing exactly what it was he needed. As if he saw those fantasies and that means of escape for him and was granting him permission. 'An outlet…Near, you could be my outlet. You could be what I need right now,' he thought to himself, never breaking from Near's gaze and wishing that there was a way to get that across to Near without having to say it._

_He stood up suddenly from the chair and instantly Near's hands fell from his warm cheeks, but Mello took hold of the younger's wrist and pulled him forward to him, acting without thinking as he was so infamous for doing, and pressed his lips to Near's. His eyes closed so he wouldn't have to meet that shocked expression._

_Near's lips were cool, a stark contrast to Mello's, as if Near had been set before him right then just to extinguish his internal fire fueled by everything that'd built up in his life. Near suddenly felt like everything he could ever possibly need. _

_He broke the kiss from Near and kissed back to the other's ear, surprised when he found the other not fighting him at all._

_"This is what you need," Near whispered quietly._

_"Just trust me," he whispered back._

_"There is no one else…" '…that I do trust'. That thought scared him and filled him with a sense of guilt and worry. He wanted to tell Near not to, not to give him that sort of power. But almost instantly he began to wonder if that trust towards him had always been there. Perhaps that was why he allowed Mello to come here, on this night. Because he trusted him. And maybe that was why he was willing to allow himself to be used by Mello like this. Because for the first time in his life, he blindly trusted…_

_As he kissed down Near's neck, knowing just where this was going to go in the end, he felt Near's fingers slowly move up his lithe frame till they reached his blonde locks of hair, gently twirling one strand._

_Mello felt Near's soft lips move to his ear. "Just don't lose yourself, dear Mello…"_

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><p>AN: Urgh! I have quite obviously been playing too much Poisoned. Or maybe that's only obvious to me… Can't believe that trickled into my writing. Hehe… Alright anyway, yes, as you saw here, this is the flashback that started it all! Like I said in the first note, I thought it important to show how and why all of this started! _I_ feel it makes sense, anyway… and it will be a contributing factor to a lot of the things that are going on in other flashbacks and in the present. Anyway, please leave me a review and let me know what you thought of this and I will begin work on chapter nine (which should be set back in the present) soon!

Please review

_-Forbiddensoul562_


	9. Name

A/N: I am so sorry for the long delay in this chapter. College has been hell for me this semester with so many things happening at once and all my stories sort of moved to the back burner. I'm trying to keep it all straight now, and make sure that I keep writing, so hopefully it won't be another month till the update. Again, I'm sorry and thanks to everyone who's been reading, and hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well! Let me know what you think! Thanks to my awesome beta, Belletrist Word Salad!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

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><p><span>Chapter 9<span>: Name

The way back to the apartment, Mello brooded over what he was supposed to tell his son. But every time he considered it, his mind filled with a sense of shame and no answers came to him. He felt like a failure. The one thing his son wanted and he couldn't even get it for him.

It was all he could do to even convince himself that he should return to the apartment and face the little boy with the disappointment of another failed attempt. He'd stopped at a convenience store on the way back, just to get a chocolate bar. Then he'd stayed to eat it, telling himself that if he didn't, it would melt in his pocket.

But once the sweet treat was gone, his hands felt once again empty of purpose, and his anxiety at the thought of going back had not been quelled in the slightest. He repeated the process twice more before he finally swallowed his pride and knew he couldn't run from something like this.

For a minute, he'd contemplated not going back at all. But then he remembered that Michael would then be left in Matt's hands. And the thought of his son being brought up by the reclusive gamer made him shudder and refueled his anxiety.

He bit his lip and drove as fast as legally allowed, telling himself that if he didn't hurry, his child would be even more corrupted than he might already have been from just the exposure he already had to Matt.

He ran up the stairs of the apartment building to where they lived on the third floor, and dashed to the door, pulling it open, out of breath as he surveyed the open area and found Matt on the couch with Michael beside him, game controllers in their hands.

The gamer looked over at him through orange lenses of goggles that were pulled down over his eyes. "Oh, hey, welcome back, Mels!" he called, then gave him a confused look. "Why are you so out of breath?"

Mello exhaled heavily and leaned against the doorframe of the entryway. "Dammit…" he said quietly, reprimanding himself for letting himself get worked up over the whole issue. That was just like him, letting some fantasy get to him and then allowing it to slip from his grasp and get out of hand.

"Did you go see Near?" Matt asked when it became obvious that Mello wasn't going to answer his first question. Michael's dark eyes slid from his uncle to his father as he quietly observed the situation.

Mello nodded. "Yeah…"

"And?" Matt pressed, his eyes serious on his friend. "What did he say?"

Mello closed his eyes and took another breath, feeling his heartbeat beginning to calm once more now that he was no longer running, no longer worrying. But what was he supposed to say now?

Suddenly, Michael's voice cut in. "Uncle Matt, why did you said 'he'. Is my Mama…a boy?"

All sound within the room ceased, fell into a tense, heavy silence. Mello's blue eyes shot open and flicked over to Matt, who was looking back at him. He felt his heartbeat begin to pick up once more, accompanied by a raging din in his head.

Matt looked to the confused Michael between them and chuckled nervously, obviously without anything to say. How appropriate, Mello mused venomously, for he too wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to say to that. He inwardly cursed his redheaded friend for being so suddenly careless around Michael.

"Matt. You, me, outside."

"But, Mello…shouldn't you answer his question?" Matt asked quickly, a desperate attempt to get the focus off of himself and onto Michael and the situation at hand, knowing that if he didn't, it wouldn't end well for him.

"Now!" the blonde snapped, turning and exiting out the same doorway, knowing Matt would know better than to defy him and not follow. He took a few steps away, inwardly mapping out the boundaries of the apartment, so he could be sure he would be far enough away to keep Michael from hearing anything he might say once his inner fire became a raging inferno.

Upon hearing the click of the door closing, and the sound of Matt's boots against the wood floor, he started down the stairwell until he reached the bottom floor, his eyes remaining down as everything swarmed his brain all at once. So many options, so many wrongs, so much hate. So much longing…

Things were silent for a long moment between the two friends. Then, Mello felt a hand on his shoulder and Matt's quiet voice muttering his name. Something in the gentle action caught him off guard and shoved him right over the edge he'd been teetering on for longer than he knew.

He whirled around and slammed his clenched fist into the side of Matt's face, throwing the redheaded gamer off him and into the side wall. "Why the hell…" the blonde started, but couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. His more rational half told him that Matt could not be his punching bag, that he didn't deserve this.

But everything was adding up too fast all at once, and honestly he wasn't sure what else to do with himself at that moment. He hated to think of what he might've done had Matt not provided him that sudden outlet for all his frustrations. He wanted to thank his friend, but the words just wouldn't make it to his lips.

Instead, all he could do was stand over Matt, his fists still clenched at his sides as the gamer gently touched his red cheek and looked up at Mello, surprise and a twinge of fear present in his green orbs. "What the hell, Mello?" he finally shot back.

"Why did you let that slip, Matt?" Mello roared, no longer worrying about Michael being within earshot.

"I didn't mean to, Mels! I was worried about your situation with Near and I forgot Michael was right there!" He paused for a long second, his eyes never breaking from Mello's. "Why don't you want to tell him the truth, Mello?"

The blond successor was taken aback by this question and recoiled, taking a moment to think over his question. No, it wasn't even something that needed thinking over. He knew what he was doing. That's what he liked to think.

"I _do_ want to tell him the truth."

"Then why are you out here punching me?" Matt retorted, his gloved hand still over his bruising cheek.

"It's just…now was not a good time, Matt! I would have told him myself, given the right time. But it would've made it easier if I could have dealt with this whole situation with Near before I have to tell it all to Michael." He sighed, stepping away from where he'd been standing over Matt to lean against the wall, looking back up the stairwell. "Besides, if Near really wants nothing more to do with Michael, than what does it really matter? I could just make something up, if Near really does just disappear from his life."

Matt's hand slowly descended from his cheek, his eyes never moving from Mello. "You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I?" Mello asked, blue eyes shifting back to his friend.

"No, you wouldn't. You'd tell Michael exactly how it is. I know you, Mello. I know you would never be able to bring yourself to lie to your own son, no matter what situation Near put you in. So the situation's changed a bit and now you have to face this before you're ready. You never know; maybe explaining things to Michael exactly how they are will help you."

"And how exactly would it help me?" Mello looked away. "What if he's upset that his 'mother' isn't like he thought 'she' was?"

Matt shook his head. "Michael's not like that, and you know it." From the corner of his eyes, Mello could see the small growth of a smile across Matt's face, the way his eyes lightened as he watched him, the way they did whenever he encouraged him into a situation he was uncomfortable with.

He sighed and looked back at him, meeting those deep green eyes that were filled with so many emotions that Mello could read like an open book. It hurt him that could see exactly what Matt was showing and trying to tell him, and yet he consciously closed the book in front of him. He forced himself to deny Matt and push that part of him away.

Matt trusted him too much for his own good, and Mello knew he'd never be able to forgive himself if he allowed himself to use Matt in any other way than he did already. He bit his lip. Their relationship was so fucked up, he realized…

"What am I supposed to tell him?" Mello whispered quietly.

"The truth," Matt said seriously. "Start from the beginning if you have to. Answer all his questions, tell him anything he wants to know. If Near won't see him, than he deserves that."

Mello watched him for another long moment before finally standing straight and casting him a final glance. "I guess…" he said simply. "Stay out here a while. I'll take him into the room, but I'd like to keep him from knowing that I punched his uncle."

At that, Matt again raised a hand to rub his cheek. "What are you going to tell him when he sees the bruise?"

"I'll tell him you tripped and hit the banister or something," Mello said with a shrug and a small grin. "You hopeless klutz."

Matt just chuckled, leaning against the wall and taking out his cigarettes from the vest pocket, not caring about whether he was indoors or not at the moment. "Right, right."

With that, everything was silent and Mello was left with just himself as he walked back to the door to the apartment, swallowing hard at the task that he faced before him. What _was_ he going to tell Michael? What would he _do_ Michael took it terribly? He closed his eyes momentarily in a desperate attempt to calm himself, trying to tell himself that nothing of the sort would happen, that Michael was a more understanding child than that.

But there was the side of him that reminded him that Michael was also Near's child. And if history had taught him anything, it was that no one could never truly predict Near's thoughts and actions.

_Near's unpredictability with my emotions. This could be very bad._ Even so, he reached out for the doorknob and twisted it, slowly pushing the door open.

Everything was the same as he'd left it when he'd stormed out and at the same time, filled to the brim with tension and words that'd remained unsaid, stories that should've been told before now. _Now where have I felt _this_ before?_ Mello entered and shut the door again, almost as if cutting himself off from any possible escape.

Michael sat frozen in place on the worn couch, his hands folded on his lap and his head down a bit, as if he'd just been scolded. Grey eyes moved from the floor up to Mello, and for a moment there was light in them before it died out and was replaced with a glint of fear and hesitance. The older blonde's heart clenched at the look, at how quickly Michael's face had gone from lively to something eerily reminiscent of the current L.

"Please don't be mad, Daddy…" Michael said quietly.

Mello was caught off guard, though something told him he should've expected this from Michael, after he'd allowed him that instance in which his pent-up frustration reared its ugly head. He made a mental note to try to fix that. He hated the look on Michael's face, and he didn't want to see that again because of something he had done.

He crossed the threshold of the room and sat down beside Michael, blue eyes filled with confusion. "Why would I be mad at you, Michael?"

Michael's eyes darted away from him and he shifted in his spot in that way he did whenever he was nervous. "Because…I asked a bad question," he said quietly, still unable to meet his father's eyes.

Mello sighed. "Michael, look at me for a minute." There was a pause between them before the younger relented and slowly looked over at his father, who reached out and ran his fingers through Michael's soft locks of light blond hair. "There is no such thing as a bad question. If you're curious about something, you ask as many questions as you need to in order to figure things out."

Michael watched him for a moment, considering Mello's words before he finally nodded, though his response didn't match it. "Then why did you get mad when I asked about my Mama?"

The older blonde was taken aback for a moment, but knew it was a fair question. Even if he could blame this on having a bad night, he knew he would still have to answer for every other instance -where he'd come home frustrated, angry, and just more emotionally riled up than he had been when he left. He would never put such observations past his own son.

He finally swallowed hard. "I just…wasn't ready to tell you the truth yet, Michael," he answered quietly, as if the honesty of the statement, if said any louder, might show the light of the lie he'd been hiding. "But you do have a right to know, and I would really hate for you to find out any other way."

Michael cocked his head to the side, but remained silent, waiting for Mello to continue.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, cutting himself off from the situation for just another second and trying to escape to that paradise of an imaginary world. The one Near used to allow him to run to when he needed it. The one he'd lost himself in, no matter how much Near used to warn him…no matter how much Near _let_ him fall into it.

Blue eyes slid open, glass and full of an abyssal level of hurt, but he tried to disguise it from his son in order to focus on the objective at hand. "To answer your question, yes. Your mother, Near, is biologically male."

The former successor watched Michael take in this information. He watched the way his eyes flooded with confusion and his lips purse as if considering whether or not such a thing was possible. The boy was still so young that he wouldn't be surprised if Michael was not even aware that such a thing wasn't normal.

"My Mama's a boy…" Michael said quietly to himself, as if tasting that statement.

"What do you think of that?" Mello had to know. He had to know what was going on in Michael's head. As he watched the young boy contemplate this, his grey eyes looking away, he knew that Michael had that same damn quality Near did: the ability to hide every emotion when he was thinking and thus never letting it get the best of him.

"I didn't think boys were supposed to have babies, Daddy. Are you sure my Mama is?" Michael finally asked, grey eyes darting over to blue. "All the kids at the orphanage used to talk about how their Mamas were warm and would hold them and smelled really sweet and things like that." He swung his legs off the end of the couch. "But…my Mama doesn't sound like that at all…" There it was: the disappointment, that disillusionment that Mello had anticipated.

_Dammit, Matt! _he screamed inwardly. Had it been anyone else sitting on the couch with him, he probably would've hit something by now.

"Well, Near—your mother is…different," Mello heard himself say before he could stop himself.

"Different?" Michael asked, now hanging onto his father's every word.

Mello nodded. "Yeah. Different." He'd almost said that Near hadn't known that he was "different" until Michael came along, but thought better of it. No need to give the boy anymore reason to think himself at fault.

Michael looked down at his hands again, which were still folded in his lap. When he looked back up, that neutral expression was still there. "Why is he different?"

It was Mello's turn to look down. What could he say to that?

He willed himself to look back up at his son. "You'd have to ask _him_ that. It's not my place to say." He didn't know if Michael would accept that, but it would have to do.

Michael looked away, as if taking the time to digest his father's answer. Mello watched, noticed the subtle furrow of his son's brow, and tried to think of what to say next should Michael press the matter further.

Michael locked eyes with him again, a glint of sadness in them this time. "Is that why my Mama left me at Wammy's House? Is that why he doesn't wanna see me?"

Again, Mello's heart clenched, and it took everything in him to not look away from his son again.

Mello patted the space between them. "Come here."

Michael complied, closing the space between them. As soon as he did, Mello ran his hand through the boy's hair, then cupped his face.

"It's more complicated than that, Michael. Near is…not only different in the sense that he was able to have you; he's also different in the sense that he doesn't express what he feels like you or I would. With him, you have to read between the lines.

"I think that in his own way, your mother cares about you. He's a world-famous detective now, one who's slowly lost favor to a world siding with Kira. And he didn't want that risk of any of Kira's followers finding out about him and his connection with you. And he still feels that way now. So it's not so much that he doesn't want to see you; it's more like…it's not the right time."

Mello ended his explanation there, secure in the fact that while it wasn't the whole truth, it wasn't a complete untruth. With bated breath, he awaited his son's reaction.

Michael looked down again, at the space that had been closed between himself and his father.

"So, my Mama doesn't wanna see me because of Kira?" he asked after a long pause.

"Yes."

"Then…I hope he catches Kira soon."

Mello smiled wanly then hugged Michael to himself. "Me too. Me too."

"You'll help my Mama catch him, right?" Michael asked, surprising Mello.

He held the boy tighter against him. "Of course, Michael. You don't have to worry about that." He closed his eyes, knowing that if nothing else, he could keep _that_ promise.

After a while, Michael shifted in his arms and looked up at the older blonde again. "Daddy," he asked, quietly, "do I have a last name?" His face and voice were laden with pensiveness.

Mello looked down at him. "Do you have a last name?" he repeated. "Well…of course you do. Everyone has a last name." He stopped, wondering what exactly he was supposed to tell him. Should he give Michael his surname, or Near's? Had Near already decided that? For a moment, Mello contemplated giving Michael Near's surname, since Near'd already given him a variation of his given name, Mihael, but thought better of it. At this time, the albino didn't want anything to do with their son. And if he were to find out that Mello had given Michael his surname without his consent…

"Keehl," he finally answered. "Your last name is Keehl, my last name."

Michael nodded. "What's my Mama's name? I won't tell anyone. I promise."

Mello sighed. "I can't tell you that, Michael," he said reluctantly. "I can tell you mine because I know you won't say anything, but also because I'm…not nearly as crucial in the Kira case as Near is. It would make things harder if Near's name got out. That's why there's that first rule of Wammy's House: never reveal your real name. Near is either referred to as L, Near, or N. His real name…and everything associated with that name no longer exists."

He bit his tongue, unknowingly holding Michael tighter to him. It was déjà vu, really, for he remembered way back when it was Near who reiterated that rule, and he, Mello, who'd listened.

It was disturbing, then and now, to think that Near's life as just a single being in a world of nearly seven billion had been stripped away from him, to think that it happened to him as well, no matter how hard he desperately tried to hold on to the identity that he'd had before Wammy's destroyed it all. With each passing day, that task became harder and harder, the memories floating away like dust in the wind…

"Are you okay, Daddy?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Michael. Don't worry about me." He patted the boy's, a reassurance. "No more questions tonight, okay? It's pretty late, anyway. You should be getting to sleep so you're not so tired in the morning."

Michael just nodded against him, and the room around the two beings fell into silence. Mello starred out to the far wall and continued to hold Michael as he allowed his memories to fly back to a time when things weren't as convoluted as they were now…

_"Mello…I cannot allow you to do this." His eyes slipped closed. "Not tonight."_

_There was something in Near's tone, as if his resolve had finally cracked, yet he was still trying to hold it all together. Mello drew back from his neck, bringing their foreheads together and their eyes locking together. "What is it?" the blonde asked, honestly concerned that something could shake Near this much. Whatever it was, he wanted it dead. "Tell me what's wrong."_

_Near's eyes were locked with his, all those buried secrets swimming just below the surface once more. But Mello was patient with Near. He could wait and get them from him whenever Near felt like telling him. _

_Suddenly, one of the younger's cool hands reached up and touched Mello's cheek, a single finger tracing the line of Mello's jaw. "Tell me, dear Mello. To what extent do you trust me?"_

_Mello was taken aback by the sudden question, and his heart clenched as he desperately made an attempt to build a wall up around it incase whatever Near was getting at might possibly hurt him. "What do you mean?" _

_"How much do you trust me?"_

_"What do you want?"_

_"Do you really want to know?" Near asked, his eyes diverted away from Mello's in that way he did when he wasn't entirely confident about his methods or what the outcome of his plans might be. That alone made Mello feel more wary about what he was getting at._

_"Would I ask if I didn't want to know?"_

_Near's dark eyes shot to Mello's, serious and void of those hidden secrets. "Tell me your name. Trust me to know your real name."_

_Mello suddenly shot back away from Near, taking a few steps back, his blue eyes widened and his heart beginning to race in his chest. "What? Have you lost your mind, Near? What are you trying to get at? You know damn well that revealing my name is as good as digging my own __grave! Have you forgotten that Kira is still out there?"_

_Near composed himself and reached a hand up to twist a lock of his snowy-white hair. "I'm well aware of that. However, as much as you hate to admit it, we're on the same side. Even if we're not on the same team. Unless you believe me to be Kira, you have no reason to withhold it." His smoldering grey eyes met Mello's. "I'll tell you mine, if you reveal yours to me. In which case you can be assured that should anything happen and Kira does get your name, then you may reveal mine as well."_

_Mello was silent, torn between what he'd always been taught as a child and what his heart and his mind told him: that he trusted Near enough with something of that magnitude. He took another step away from Near. "What do you need that information for? What does it matter?"_

_Near looked over. "You do not trust me, then. That is a shame, dear Mello." His voice trailed off, disappointment present, but Mello knew better than that. He knew that it was just a ruse to make him feel bad, and at the same time make him curious as to what Near's true intentions were. He had to wonder whether or not Near could really just be trying to establish a line of trust with him._

_He swallowed hard, but Near started speaking before he could make his decision. "Our names mean nothing anymore, you know," he stated. "They're only there anymore for legal purposes, if that. I wouldn't even go as far as to say they are there to tie us back to the life we came from before Wammy's. In the end, they're meaningless. It's by some lucky stroke that that is what Kira needs in order to kills his victims."_

_"What do you mean?" Mello asked warily._

_"Who we were when those names were relevant no longer exist," Near said, twisting a lock of hair again. "Can you honestly say that the person you were when you were still referred to by your given name is the same person you are today, now that you're 'Mello'?"_

_"No…"_

_"The people of those given names are a thing of the past. In a time that is long gone and a time we will never be able to connect with again. In the end, they are pointless to hold on to, and yet we cannot fully get rid of them."_

_"Wammy's taught us to hide all of that," Mello retorted._

_"We, Mello, are beyond Wammy's. We're gone from there and we decide what we do for ourselves. You and I are tied closer together than anyone else who has come out of Wammy's. Trusting one another with such information amplifies that. Which leads me back to my original question: do you not trust me enough with something so precious?"_

_Mello was quiet, heavily weighing his options in his head as to what he was going to do. What could he tell Near? He could lie and give him a fake name, and equally Near could do the same to him. But there was something in the look of his eyes that said he was being genuinely serious with him. That Mello, of all people deserved that level of trust. A part of him was flattered by that honor. But another part was scared of what Near could do with that information._

'_What do I have to lose?' Mello asked himself as he found himself stepping forward towards Near, who kept his eyes diverted._

_The blonde moved closer to him and once again moved to his ear, whispering quietly. "Let's get one thing straight: I hate you more than anyone else on this planet. At the same time, I trust you more than anyone else on this planet. And because of that, I'll tell you."_

_Mello felt Near grip the cloth of Mello's shirt tightly, as if his life depended on it._

_"My real name is Mihael Keehl."_

_"Mihael Keehl…" Near enunciated, the words rolling off his tongue as if they were made just for him. Mello shivered at the sound of it. "My dear Mihael…it is a pleasure to know you as such. My name…" there was a pause, an indication that Near was also battling what they'd always been told was the key to survival. "…is Nate River."_

_"Nate."_

_"Dear Mihael."_

_"Nate…"_

_"Don't call me that…" Near pulled Mello back a bit and allowed the blonde to kiss him. "I appreciate you trusting me with something so intimate, Mello," he told him. "This will stay between us."_

_Mello nodded, the space between them nearly nonexistent. "It had better stay that way. I swear if anyone finds out about it, I'll kill you before they ever get the chance to use it in any way."_

_"I can assure you, dear Mello, that this knowledge will not be used in any negative fashion." _

Mello's eyes slipped open to the darkness of his bedroom, a heavy exhale escaping his lips. He looked down to Michael, who was still nestled comfortably in his arms.

Near had known. Known that he was pregnant that night. That was what was hidden in his eyes, what he'd refused to tell him, in fear of his reaction. And he'd asked for Mello's real name not to deeper whatever it was they had, but to have a basis for the child's name. And even on the off-chance that Near'd chosen a variation of that name as a gesture of spite, Mello was still grateful.

He settled down into the comfort of his bed and made sure Michael was comfortable and tucked into the deep red sheets before he closed his eyes and allowed his memories to fly back to all those nights with Near.

_'You planned on not telling me. Maybe never telling me. But you still did that, even at the risk of me never knowing you did it.'_ He smiled. Near did care, somewhere deep in those dark eyes, and down in that heart of his. And even if he'd conned Mello's name out of him in the most manipulative way, somehow, with all that other knowledge behind it, it didn't matter quite as much.

He wasn't mad. He wasn't bitter.

Everything was just fine.

* * *

><p>AN: So what did you think? I feel kind of iffy about the beginning of it, but who knows. Anyway, the next chapter will probably be more Near focused again, though I haven't quite figured out what I'm going to do for that yet. So, again, as I said in the beginning note, I'm sorry for the long wait for this chapter and hopefully the next one won't take nearly as long! Until then, please let me know what you think!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	10. Family

A/N: There are no words to excuse what I've done. Even the explanation of trying to say 'college' doesn't even explain what I've done by disappearing for two years and never updating anything. But… the moral of the story is that I am back, now, and I have a whole new passion for this, and I don't care that it seems like this fandom is dead! I hope all of you can forgive me, and come back to let me finish this story, as well as continue to tell you others! (I know I still owe everyone a sequel to BP/KATP, and I don't break promises) Thank you for putting up with my bullshit, and hopefully this story will continue to be worth it, somehow.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael, I own him.

* * *

><p>Chapter 10: Family<p>

_This was something he told himself he would never forget for as long as he lived, however long that may be. The sheer peacefulness of the situation was what made it remarkable, in its own way. Watching the moon ascend up into the clear night sky over the city that never slept, yet somehow seeming oddly quiet on this night from where he sat on the side of the bed, a sheet the only thing covering him, and a bar of chocolate gripped between his fingers._

_The moonlight cast a tranquil glow through the floor to ceiling windows and provided the only light into the room, showing the evidence of the activities that had happened not long ago. Everything seemed frozen and peaceful, in that moment. There was no race to find Kira, no mafia members needing dealt with. It was just… quiet. In a way, Mello felt like the pale blue light cleansed them of their sins, taking all of that away from them for just a single fleeting moment of time._

_For once, under the merciful eyes of the moon, they were granted their innocence. They were once again just children forced to grow up too early in a world which had everything against them._

_Snapping a piece of chocolate off, Mello broke his gaze from the moon's façade to look behind him a moment. Near was sleeping peacefully beside him, his pale, flawless back facing the blonde. He could see ever contour of his muscles in this soft light -the way his shoulder blades created crests and valleys on Near's luminescent skin, the way his figure curved from sleeping on his side. All the little details that were overlooked at any other point._

_Mello sighed. He didn't know if he could keep doing this… this thing with Near. Whatever that 'thing' was. It didn't really have a name. They never really talked about it. It just… always happened, for whatever reason. This sort of 'relationship', if he dared call it that, wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't his idea of what his future should be like._

_But then again, when he thought about it, how much of his life had turned out anywhere near what he had planned? Anything he could have desired his life to be was stolen away from him the moment he entered into Wammy's. When it was told to him that it was his duty, if he wanted to remain in Wammy's, to fight for L's title._

_The moment he entered there, anything he could have been fated to do was ripped away. Any greatness he may have been destined for was now gone. In its place, a new fate was reconstructed. It was a fate he was never meant to achieve. He'd often wondered if it was simply his fate to remain second place to everything. _

_His fingers gripped the chocolate tighter; his eyes narrowed on the boy sharing the bed. The ultimate goal was a fate meant for Near, not himself. It was as if they were sculpted in complete opposition of one another, as perfect design rather than mere coincidence. Near was fated to be first at everything, and Mello second, no matter what it was, or how much passion and heart was put into it._

_And yet here he was, sleeping with the boy who was granted everything, while he was given nothing. The boy who was so perfect in his eyes. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if that was the reason he came here time and time again. Perhaps it was that feeling of knowing he could have Near in ways no one else could. He could take something from him, or give him something that the rest of the world couldn't. He could see Near in ways anyone else thought impossible._

_It was that side of Near which showed Mello that not all of him had been crushed under the pressure of carrying a title too big for anyone other than L to hold. It was those little things that told Mello that he was still human, despite it all. In a way, perhaps it gave him hope for himself…_

_Very carefully, as to not wake Near, Mello allowed himself to lean back on one arm and allow his other hand to trace the lines of Near's back, and follow the natural curve of the muscles that were prominent there. His skin was cool to the touch, and taut, yet unbelievably soft. It seemed almost a perfect reflection of the younger's personality._

_Near was his drug, that much he was sure of. And in that moment where he was allowed to see Near for who he really was, and the vulnerability behind the mask of complete control, he wondered if that was what kept him so addicted. What kept him coming back for more. If Near was really as emotionless and cold as he let on, he knew that things just wouldn't be as interesting. Near showed him just enough to keep him coming back time and time again._

_Perhaps it was trust… perhaps it was just another game… or perhaps it was something much deeper than any of that._

_He traced his fingers up to Near's collar bone, observing for a moment the other's sleeping expression -one of perfect peace, and calm. It was one that wasn't plagued by having too many thoughts running through his brain at once, while simultaneously trying to navigate it all. There was no case to be solved. No one to satisfy. Just a pleasant calm. He'd never seen such an expression on him before. It was just another simple action that left Mello wondering about the younger genius… something more that kept him so addicted._

_He sighed and sat back up, using one arm to support himself but allowed his eyes to lock on the moon again. He was perfectly content to stay like this and let the night pass him by; to let all of time pass him by, for all he cared. This was the only time he could allow himself to really think over what his life had become, anyway._

_The mystery of what he could've ever wanted to do with his life other than chase the L title had become a fantasy, to him. Just another blurred out memory in the recesses of his own mind. It was something as unattainable as the title itself. But at the same time, it was something he could look on to soothe his mind; it let him fantasize about other things in order to make reality just a little bit easier to deal with._

_"I've always wanted a family…" Mello found himself whispering to the silence. He wasn't sure why he was speaking aloud for only the walls to hear him. But at the same time it felt right to actually say aloud instead of keeping it all locked away in his head. Even if no one heard what he had to say, it still felt like someone was listening. That somebody cared._

_"A real family, you know? We've all been caught in the middle something so much bigger than ourselves for so long that what I really want is something simple." He sighed, almost hearing how unbelievable it sounded. It sounded unfathomable for someone like him. But it was his guilty pleasure to think on. It was his heart's desire. "What I wouldn't give to have this stupid competition taken away… So I could just live my own life for a minute and have those things I really want."_

_He paused, looking down at the chocolate bar that was quickly melting in his hand. He took one more bite before wrapping it back up in the foil and placing it on the bedside table for later. Licking his fingers clean, he thought once more on his fantasy. _

_"I used to think that someday I'd be able to meet some woman, fall in love and just… kind of disappear from all this chaos. We could have a nice house somewhere… or an apartment in a city if she wanted." He shrugged, "It'd be up to her, really. I don't care. Any woman who could put up with my bullshit definitely deserves to be able to run the show."_

_He smiled a bit, "Maybe we'd have a kid or two. Knowing my luck they'd be unplanned surprises, or something. My mom raised me to know how to take care of kids and… I don't know. I guess I just wouldn't mind giving it a shot. I mean, if things go bad I can always leave, right?" He chuckled emptily, looking to the floor. "Running. That's what I've always been good at anyway, right?"_

_A brief moment of silence passed through the room before Mello continued with indulging the night with his fantasy life, "I'd like the kid to be named after me." He shrugged, "Maybe it's a little vain of me, but it's tradition in my family, apparently. That's what my mom always told me when I was young. That I was named after my dad. Seems fitting…"_

_He trailed off, closing his eyes a moment and beginning to imagine the scene in his mind. Imagining a little kid running around an open yard, without a care in the world. That moment and feeling of pure happiness at seeing the life he'd never have filled him, but at the same time it was as if he was seeing it through a dusted over window of a room he could never escape. Something he could never get to, himself. Sure, he could feel the warmth from the sun outside. But ultimately that's all it was. A feeling, and a vision. He was doomed to always be the voyeur._

_He bit his lip. It was always hard to realize that he'd never be able to see that dream a reality; it was hard to wonder what could have been, and then see what things were. How very different they were, and how alone it made him feel._

_Turning suddenly away from the window and the night sky, Mello allowed himself to lay down once more on the cool, empty side of the bed. He forced himself not to think about how many times he'd been in this position -counting every stranger's bed that he'd slept in after a night of sex that meant absolutely nothing to either of them. _

_He knew this was different. Near was different. But on lonely nights like that one, it still felt like one and the same._

_None of this was how things were supposed to be. But that's how it was, and that was the best it was going to be._

_He pushed the thought from his mind and closed his eyes, moving closer to Near and very carefully, as if afraid to break his vulnerable nemesis, wrapped an arm around his middle, pulling him close and tight. The emotions from the reality were growing too much, but he felt that if he just held on a little tighter, he could make it all go away for just another moment. _

_Another moment of peace…_

_He felt Near stir a moment at his tight embrace; shifting a bit back against him, as if he knew Mello needed this right now. He finally settled back in his position with a small exhale and once again relaxed into a peaceful slumber._

_Mello held Near tighter around the middle, his hand resting on Near's stomach, feeling a bit more of a swell there than he remembered. He tried to give a small smile, 'at least he's eating more, now… that's probably a good sign.'_

_His eyes then slipped closed and his nose lightly traced the lines on Near's cool, alabaster skin. "Just let me pretend, for a moment." He whispered to the painful realities that were trying so hard to impede back into the forefront of his thoughts. _

_But he combated it by returning to his little fantasy, the vision that this was not Near's bed. That this was instead his shared back with the person he loved, whom he held in his arms and whom would still expect him to be there in the morning. He envisioned let himself rest on that, his mind playing out the scene behind closed lids._

_"I can be whoever you want me to be." He whispered, barely audible, "I promise. Just give me tonight…"_

Blue eyes slid open, meeting the light that flickered in through the partially boarded up windows of the all-too familiar bedroom, landing on Mello's face. He sighed, _'That dream…'_ He thought to himself, running his fingers through his hair. _'Interesting recollection, considering yesterday's talk with Michael.'_ He couldn't help but reminisce about those times. Those instances before it all blew up in his face. As awkward as it used to be with Near, it was those moments that'd meant most to him.

It was the first time in his life that he'd ever felt like he was needed, or wanted somewhere. It was a clever ruse that his mind played, he knew. It was something Near allowed him to indulge in, but didn't necessarily consider a reality; something to keep Mello just a bit more sane. Despite this, the blonde wasn't sure if he could consider it an act of consideration by the younger genius.

_'Why did he indulge me?'_ He wondered to himself as he turned on his back, staring at the plain ceiling above his head, the red covers of the bed falling to his waist. _'He didn't have to do that… maybe it caused more harm than good…'_ His eyes narrowed. _'Maybe that was the point…'_

Whatever the reason, it had ultimately resulted in Michael. And Near had had the sense of mind to grant Mello that little bit of a fantasy that he had always wanted -a first born named after him. He couldn't fault the younger for granting him that. Past that, though, he tried not to think about Near's rational behind anything. It either hurt him, or infuriated him.

Speaking of his son, though, it was at that moment that he realized his boy was no longer sleeping beside him in bed. With a look of confusion he got up from the bed, grabbed a shirt, and exited from the room.

It didn't take him long for his eyes to be greeted by the sight of Michael and Matt sitting on the couch, the redhead attempting to further teach Michael how to play video games.

"No, see, you have to keep the car on the road! Otherwise that's cheating, Michael!" Matt told him, pointing on the screen.

"Yeah, but… why be on the road when I can beat you like this!" Michael spouted back, shimmying to the end of the couch and pushing some buttons on the controller, his tongue unconsciously sticking out of the corner of his mouth from sheer determination.

"Because that's not how the rules work!"

"I say they do, now!"

Mello smirked, "Having fun?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe with a proud smirk across his face. Even he could see the resemblance to his own actions as a child in Michael. How many days had Matt yelled and pulled his hair out trying to get the juvenile Mello to follow the rules of the games they played together? A part of him was proud that that had been passed down the line.

Matt looked up, the desperation evident in his eyes, "Mello! Teach your kid how to follow the rules!"

Mello shook his head, "No can do, Matt. You're the one who insisted on teaching him how to play those games. That's on you, now." He said. Matt huffed, but before he could start trying to convince the young kid to follow the rules again, Mello piped in. "Why don't we go out for a while, Michael?"

Deep gray eyes came alight with happiness. "Really?" He asked, excitedly, getting up off the couch and running over to Mello. "Where? Can we go to the toy store?" His entire face was filled with his joyous emotion, it made Mello proud to see; for a brief moment letting all of his worries and concerns fall away from him. Michael was the most important thing now, over everything. Even over Near and his stupid cases. In the back of his mind his pride told him he needed to reexamine his list of priorities, but he pushed it aside, for now.

"Why don't we go to the park, instead?" He offered. "But, you have to wear your jacket regardless. You don't want to get any more sunburns, do you? Let alone get sick…"

Michael shook his head.

"Good. Go get ready and meet me by the door." With that, the smaller boy was off into the room to get dressed.

Matt cleared his throat, bringing Mello's eyes to meet Matt's as he pulled his orange goggles up on top of his head, revealing his green eyes. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asked, warily.

"Why not? It's just a walk. The boy and me both need to get out of the house. Plus, it's a good opportunity to let him to talk to him about Near, if he wants to."

Matt shrugged, "Kira's still a big threat, Mello… You need to be careful. You're not exactly hard to pick out of a crowd. Especially if you're going to be talking about Near to him."

Mello nodded. "I know, I know. Trust me. I just need to get out of this place for a while, or I'm going to go stir-crazy. I haven't had the chance to really bond with Michael much, either." He explained, moving into the kitchen and grabbing a bar of chocolate, tearing it open and taking a bite off, letting the taste soothe his nerves.

Matt nodded, "Well… I'll keep track of the security monitors. Not that anything ever really happens on them…" He muttered to himself, just as Michael came out of the room, fully dressed and pulling on his shoes.

"I'm ready to go!" He exclaimed, practically jumping for joy as he ran to the door and grabbed his coat, pulling it on with the same enthusiasm.

Mello chuckled, "Alright, let's go." He said, taking another bite of his chocolate before going over and pulling his own jacket on, opening the door for the small child to run out and down the hall. "We'll be back later. Don't wait up." He called jokingly to Matt, who just threw him a look in response.

-:-

The park in the city was nearly completely deserted, given the cold weather and the snow on the ground. There was no one around debating about Kira or L, no one talking about the news, no one to give him weird looks because of his scar. It was just a peaceful stillness; he could feel his worries receding almost instantly as he looked around the frozen landscape.

Beside him, Michael was stomping along, relishing in the sound of his shoes making a _crunch_ sound under the unsalted snow of the sidewalks. Mello gave him a small smile. "You'll enjoy this place when it starts getting warmer again." He told him. "When we can actually do fun things." _'And hopefully Kira won't be an issue by then…'_ He added to himself.

"What do you mean, daddy? I love winter!" Michael said happily, shifting around in the snow more. "It's cold and you can have snowball fights! And build snowmen! And drink cocoa!"

Mello nodded, "Those are good reasons."

He stopped a moment, turning and taking a seat on a nearby bench. Michael stood before him, a bit confused, but then turning back to his amusement with the snow. He was so innocent, and still so captivated by the simple things in life -it was something that Mello both loved and envied. A simpler time…

It was in that moment that he had no regrets about getting Michael out of Wammy's. Regardless of what kind of life he was able to give his son, he was glad he would be able to know that Michael wouldn't be subjected to having his innocence stolen as a result of the fight for the title of L. He was glad to know that he was breaking the line of tragedy that may have awaited him, as it had in previous generations.

"Is there anything you want to know, Michael." Mello found himself saying, bringing the younger blonde to a stop, his round face turning to his dad.

"What?"

"Well… you're always so full of questions." He shrugged before continuing, "I figured if you wanted some answers, I'd give them to you. Maybe give you some questions of my own."

Michael paused, looking up a moment. "Why is the sky grey?"

Mello chuckled, "That's… not really what I meant."

"Then what?"

Mello shrugged, "You know… about me, about Near, about Matt. Anything. You haven't known any of us for very long."

Michael paused a moment, looking up towards the overcast sky again and thinking it over. "How did you and my Mama meet?" He asked, going over and leaning on Mello's knee, his eyes big with an innocent sense of wonder and curiosity.

"_That's_ what you want to know?" He laughed, rubbing Michael's hair. "You know Near and I lived at Wammy's together, with Matt, too. Near was… well… he was always best. He always beat me at everything we did. Except anything that requires physical exertion, of course. So… he got to become L, and I got… well, I had to do other things." He sighed at how vague of a response he had to give.

"Yeah… but… how did you two fall in _love_?" He asked, putting emphasis on the word 'love' in that innocent childish way that was almost teasing, but still in a way genuinely interested.

Mello leaned back, pondering this question for a moment, wondering if it was even worth attempting to answer. How do you tell your child that they didn't really love who they'd conceived with? How do you tell them that it was just something bore out of miscommunication and a false sense of reality?

"Well… Michael…" He hesitated, "Love is a really strong word. You probably don't know what that word really means. Hell, _I_ don't even know what it really means…"

Michael's eyes filled with confusion. "Are you saying you don't love my Mama?" Those dark orbs of gray filled with a sense of sadness -obviously a bit let down. Mello sighed, seeing the image Michael had in his mind of his family falling away. The image of a mother, so to speak, and a father who loved each other, but couldn't be together right now because their jobs demanded it. He was still probably filled with the hope that once this Kira thing, whatever it was in his mind, was over that things would change. His heart clenched in his chest, not wanting to destroy the boy's innocent idea.

"T-that's not what I said." He stuttered. "I… well… I wasn't in a very good spot, and Near let me stay over a few times… and… well… you know…" Blue eyes met gray as he tried to force out an answer. The reciprocating look were full of wonder with a slight hint of confusion again. The boy was looking for some kind of romantic tale that Mello couldn't give him right now… If ever.

"You know what, I'll tell you all about it when you get older, okay?" He promised.

Michael huffed, his face contorting into displeasure as he pursed his lips out. "You say that about everything…"

Mello snickered a bit, "I do, don't I?" He looked back out onto the snowy park for a moment, trying to find something to ask his son. "Is that what you want, Michael? For Near and I…" He couldn't finish the sentence. _He_ knew about Near and his past. _He_ knew what they'd been through; he knew the stakes and the impossibilities. But his son didn't… and he hopped Michael never really would.

Michael nodded. "Well… yeah." He said, smiling. "I know you love my Mama and me both a lot! Otherwise you wouldn't be doing so much to try and get all three of us together, right?" There was a sparkle in his eyes, an interesting one that wasn't passionate, or questioning, or even mystified by a reality built around him. It was just… hope.

Mello sighed and pulled Michael to him in a hug. "I can't promise you anything, Michael." He caught himself before he could go on. He didn't want to put it on a four year old that he and Near had such a past, such a tumultuous relationship that even now made any hope non-existent. Even on his end, he didn't know if he shared the same sort of dream Michael did. How could he? Near had always made it painfully apparent of how different life was, how impossible their situation was, in any regard.

He pulled back, giving his son a quick kiss on the cheek. "But you know I'd do anything for you." He offered him, to which the younger nodded in understanding. "For now, though," He added, "It's just you and me. We're a team, and we don't need anyone else. Hear me?"

"But you're still going to try?" Michael piped.

"Yeah, yeah…" He muttered.

"How about this," Mello then thought aloud, "I'll call him. Try to set something up to go see him; try to get all of this to work out somehow. And you can listen in. Okay?"

Michael's eyes instantly came alight with excitement. "You mean hear my Mama's voice?" He stammered out, practically bouncing on his toes.

"Yeah, sure, why not. It's the least I can do." He explained. "But," He added, looking seriously into Michael's deep eyes, "You have to be _very_ quiet, you hear me? If Near finds out I let you listen to a conversation… he'd probably cut off all contact with me." The last part was muttered to himself, trying to keep the image of an infuriated Near from his mind. "If you can do that for me, Michael, I'll…" He paused a moment, thinking. "I'll bring you one of the toys from Near's place. Just for you."

Michael's eyes lit up, "A toy?" He asked, somehow more excited than before. "My Mama has toys at his house?"

"Yeah. It's kind of… his thing." Mello said with a small smile, watching the way Michael's cheeks flushed pink from the continued exertion of bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Do we have a deal? Any noise, and I won't bring you anything back."

Michael nodded furiously, slapping one of his small hands over his lips as Mello pulled out his red cell phone and dialed the all too familiar number, putting it on speaker and listening to it ring. His heart raced in his chest as his thoughts turned to that of how exactly he was going to make any of this work. Not only the thought of living up to Michael's image of a family, but Near wasn't exactly one to part with his toys, unless they were broken. And trying to explain that it was for Michael… he could only begin to imagine how that conversation would play out.

After a moment there came the familiar voice, "Yes?"

Mello's look darted to Michael, who's eyes were huge with excitement, listening intently. He swallowed, looking out into the empty park, trying to put up that sense of confidence he tried to use against Near's wall of composure. It was harder to do with Michael around, he observed off-handedly.

"I'm coming over tonight, so leave the doors unlocked."

There was a brief moment of silence, Mello could only imagine Near's confusion as he tried to identify what the situation was right now. "Why?" He finally asked suspiciously.

"You know why." Mello said. He didn't want this to be like before, he didn't want to actively focus on putting Michael in Near's face anymore, trying to force him to come to terms with what happened. Perhaps, he thought, if he appealed to the way their 'relationship' was before all of this happened… maybe then he could get somewhere. But even he knew it was a long shot; perhaps even more so than using their son against him. Near didn't exactly live outside of reality, and he didn't let himself fall for tricks, either.

Near was quiet a moment, still identifying the situation at hand. "I thought I'd made myself clear, before." His voice was tense, annoyed, either that was because he thought this had to do with Michael, or because Mello was calling him in the middle of work. Given the situation, however, Mello figured it was more to do with the first part… though he did have to commend Near for not being so outwardly blunt about their topic. Even if it was because his SPK members were in the room, he was glad it spared Michael of hearing his mother's opinion first hand.

"That's not what this is about, Near." He sneered, swallowing as his pride came to the forefront. He couldn't find the right words to say that maybe if they could get back to the bare basics of whatever this 'relationship' was, then maybe they could move forward from there. That maybe if Near let him relive his fantasies for a bit… Maybe if he appealed to _that_ side, things could be easier…

Even he heard the delusion behind it all… but he had to try.

"Ah…" Near finally said in a long exhale. "I see."

There was another long moment of pause between them, and as Mello let his eyes shut he could feel the tension between them. He could feel all the unsaid emotions and all the shreds of trust hanging between them from unresolved disputes. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel the way it used to… but that didn't stop him from feeling like perhaps this needed to be done. For more sake than just Michael's.

"I can't let you do that." Near finally continued, breaking Mello out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping open.

"And why's _that_?"

"Isn't it obvious? Your delusions are what got us in this mess in the first place. I admit to my own ignorance in regard to taking hold of the situation before it came to this at the time, but that's no reason that we should allow things to get to that point again."

Mello's jaw locked, his body going tense in defense against Near's cool, composed attitude about their past. He didn't feel like having everything he'd trusted Near with thrown against him, but at the same time, he knew that that was just Near's way. He wondered if Near even understood why those sorts of things bothered him. Probably not…

He smirked, though, "No, that just means we need to be a bit more careful." He chided, taking hold of the situation again. "Think it over, and I'll be there tonight." With that he flipped the phone closed, eyes looking back at Michael expectantly.

The boy's face was alight in a way Mello'd never seen before. "I want a toy car! Or five!" He exclaimed as his only reaction to the entire situation. Somehow Mello wasn't surprised, though.

Mello gave him a small smile, pulling him closer again, "You only get one. But I'll see what I can do. No promises! Near's… not exactly one you can haggle with." He muttered under his breath, then stood up. "Time to head back. If you stay out here any longer you're going to get sick."

"I don't get sick!" Michael explained happily, to which Mello shook his head, watching Michael run off down the sidewalk towards the exit of the park. He started after him, all the while in the back of his mind trying not to consider what it was he might be walking into with Near.

The end of the call may have sound definitive, and overruling of any opinions Near had, but the younger genius was never that easily swayed, and never one to let control get out of his reach. So who knew what kind of things Near would have planned by that night… Mello could only dwell on the idea as they continued home.

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><p>AN: Well, not much, I suppose, but it's just enough to get things rolling, again! I'm going to start on the next chapter within a few days, so expect that within a week or so! Unless no one responds to this and the fanbase is completely dead… in which case… well… I'll have to do some serious re-evaluation. Again, as I said before, I'm terribly sorry about what I've done, and all I ask is your forgiveness, and for you to still give me a chance to redeem myself, and to tell me what you think of this.

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	11. Trepidation

A/N: This chapter gave me a lot of hell. I feel like it's inadequate to what I wanted it to be, but at the same time, I'm not exactly sure what to do to fix it anymore. So… perhaps it's at the best it's going to be. I've ranted and complained about this chapter time and again on Tumblr, but I finally got it done in time. So, please be sure to let me know what you think about it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

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><p>Chapter 11: Trepidation<p>

It was always a nerve wracking procedure to go see Near. No matter how many times Mello had gone through this process and followed the same line of steps, it never really got any easier. For as reserved as the younger genius was, his actions were always blatantly obvious to Mello. He felt as though he was the only one who saw the meaning behind Near's actions and the thought process behind it all. Like he was the only one who could tell when Near was going to go from stoic and in control, to stoic and completely losing that secure grip over all his little pawns.

It wasn't something he'd seen very often. Only a very small number of times in the many years he'd known Near. And yet every single time had scared him more than anything he could think of.

How else was one supposed to react to seeing the world's most secure person losing that grasp on all the carefully placed pieces he'd set into motion? It was an unsettling notion to even think about.

The problem with going to see Near was that Mello could never really tell which of Near's moods he was stepping into until he was already stuck within the crossfire of it all. Both of them were too caught

Tonight was no different, either. It could either be a simple meeting in which Mello once again attempted to get his way and was thrown out once Near discovered this. Or it could turn out to be much more complicated. It could be something full of disagreements and the throwing of spiteful words that were better left unsaid. Which even in itself was a tolling task. Only the two successors knew what to really say to get underneath one another's skin, they knew exactly when to throw what words and when silence was the best way to inflict the most damage.

They really did have the most masochistic of relationships… and yet he had a feeling that both of them found enough enjoyment out of it to be unable to break away.

The blonde shuddered at the thought, shaking it away and bringing himself back to the present, attempting to use reality as a way to focus his mind and keep himself set on what it was he was going to Near's for.

This was for Michael. It was all for Michael. It was always for him…

But the more he thought about it, the more the inkling of doubt slipped into the shadows of his thoughts; bringing him back to that place he was at before all of this happened. Four years ago… before Michael. Before his blow up at Near. Before all of this.

It was hard to rest on the thought with the fact that their situation was so different now. Time always had a tendency to ruin the most perfect… no… the most beautiful and comfortable of situations. It was an inevitable fact of life that Mello had had to come to terms with over and over again. Not that that made it any easier.

He looked to Michael, who was sitting on the floor of the apartment at his feet, playing with a few of the toys Mello'd sent Matt out to get a few days ago. The boy was content in his own little world.. But Mello wasn't. He never was.

He'd been staring at security surveillance of Misa Amane for hours now; ever since he and his son had gotten back from their trip to the park. _Staring_ at the screen. Never really _watching_ it. For all he knew, the girl could have killed a hundred people and he would have never known the difference.

Somehow even the idea of Kira seemed second in priorities to the situation with Michael and Near. He hated to admit such a change in his thoughts, though, considering he knew how much hell Near would give him if he were to ever find out. But perhaps it was the silent, back-of-his-mind knowledge that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, Near would always find a way to get to Kira first.

At least that's what history told him would happen…

Looking up he noticed the dark night sky outside the apartment window. He exhaled a heavy breath and stood up. "I'm going." He said bluntly, stepping around Michael, but feeling both his son and Matt's eyes following him.

"Going to Near's?" Matt asked, looking up from his game.

Mello nodded from the small kitchen that was hardly ever used, grabbing a couple bars of chocolate from the fridge. "Might as well… nothing's happening with Amane. I have better chances of getting information over there."

Matt smirked, "Right. Information." He snickered, looking back down at his game before Mello could glare over at him.

Michael clambered up from the floor and ran over to Mello, his large gray eyes staring up at him with that usual twinkle of innocence and delight. "You're going to see my Mama?" He asked happily, bouncing up and down in place.

"Yeah."

"Don't forget to bring me the toy you promised me!"

Mello chuckled, patting the top of Michael's head of soft yellow hair. "Is that all you care about, Michael, is getting one of Near's toys?"

From the other side of the room Matt suddenly laughed, "You're going to get one of Near's toys for him? Yeah right! Good luck. I'll believe it when I see it, Mels! That's a good one."

The elder blonde glared at his childhood friend, but then turned back as Michael responded, "Well… yeah." He said, nervously looking away to the side wall. "My Mama doesn't want to see me anyway, so… I just want my toy! I will be happy with that for now!"

Mello sighed, reaching down and picking Michael up, holding him in his arms. "Don't think like that, alright? Near's going to freely give one of his toys up just for you. I'll make sure of it." He ignored the laughing that started from Matt again, even when Michael's eyes drifted over to the gamer. He carefully brought the boy's chin back to look at him. "You're not old enough yet to understand how much of an honor that is. But it really means a lot. It'll take a lot for him to do that for you. But only you, Michael. Not me. Near could care less about someone like me."

"Why?" Michael asked curiously, reaching up and pulling a bit at Mello's long blonde hair. Not enough to hurt, but almost reminiscent of the way Near twirled his hair. The resemblance was uncanny.

"We fight a lot." Mello said, taking Michael's hand from his hair and lightly kissing the boy's finger tips. A silent way of telling his son how much he was beginning to love seeing all of Near's qualities in him.

"About what?"

"Oh you know, about who loves you more." He said with a grin, letting Michael's small fingers find his hair again.

"You're lying! I know you are!" Michael accused.

"Never!" Mello told him, setting the boy down on the floor again, kneeling down in front of him.

"Be good for Matt, alright? Don't make him too crazy by cheating in his games. And go to bed when he says to. Otherwise I won't let you have the toy Near gives me for you. You have to be good to get it. Understood?" He explained.

Michael nodded, "Yeah…" He said, pursing his lips. "Are you sure I can't go with you, Daddy? Like a surprise?"

Mello could feel his heart clench in his chest and break in half for his son. For a split moment he considered again the idea of just bringing Michael with him without telling Near and seeing what happened. He knew where Near would be. He knew Near trusted him enough to not have security surveillance on the place. He knew he could get away with it…

But a part of him was just too worried about what the reaction from Near would be; he didn't want to risk putting Michael through that. His consideration for Michael greatly outweighed his need to have their son finally meet Near. Not to mention the fact that he didn't want to burn down the bridge of trust between himself and Near.

"Yeah… I'm sure. But, hey, remember what I told you today at the park? It's you and me against everyone else, Michael. We're a team, and we're all we need. If this keeps up, we don't need Near." He offered out his hand to Michael. "Right? You trust me?"

The younger blonde looked between Mello and his hand for a moment before nodding and reaching out to let Mello shake their hands; a large smile spread across the boy's face before he moved forward and hugged Mello around the neck. "Thank you, Daddy." He told him, then pulled back, looking directly in those blue eyes. "Don't fight with my Mama, alright?"

Mello offered a half smile, "I'll try, Michael. But no promises!"

With that he stood up, moving to the door and putting the chocolate bars he'd grabbed before into the pocket of his coat before throwing it on. "I'll be back later tonight." He called to both residents.

"No you won't." Matt called back, earning a glare from Mello as he left out of the apartment into the hallway, exhaling heavily and pushing all his personal feelings to the back of his mind before being able to walk towards the exit of the building. The only way to confront Near was to push everything away and attempt to take everything on based on fact, not feeling. Feelings got in the way and complicated everything…

But it was so much harder when everything was all so closely tied to his heart.

-:-

Getting from the front door up to Near's living quarters was always the worst part. It was those few moments when every second-guessing thought made their way to the forefront of Mello's mind and made him wonder why he was even here.

It was surprise enough to know that Near had actually agreed to this and left the building unlocked for him. In the back of his mind he knew it meant the younger had something on his mind -something driving him to let Mello come back here. It was actions like that which riled his nerves over having no idea what the younger was thinking, or what Near had planned. Especially when he had little to no real plan of action for himself.

He exhaled, closing his eyes a moment as the elevator took him higher and higher in the building, and trying not to let himself get too ahead of himself -trying not to over plan, or over think about what Near might say. Trying not to let his _desires_ get in the way.

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

Mello's eyes slid open, meeting the dark and all too familiar hallway. But he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, unable to bring himself to step forward out of the elevator -as if that one single action was simply too definite to make any sort of move. Not with how unsure he was at the moment.

What was he to do? What was he to say? How did he even attempt to try and begin divulging unto Near the things that were suffocating his heart, his mind, and his every breath? Would Near even have the ears to hear him? Of course he would… but would he actually _listen_ to him instead of filing it away as something he could use against the blonde later?

_That_ was a completely different story all together.

As the metal doors began to slide closed once more he reached out and stopped them, forcing them open again and finally taking the step out of the confining space. _'I'm here for Michael… This is for Michael…'_ was the only way he could drive himself forward without thinking himself a fool for even daring to show his face in this place again.

He knew what was going to happen. He knew what the result was going to be. But he was a masochist at heart, and was always willing to take the risk. As such he allowed himself to push open the door to Near's living quarters.

The area was exactly the way it always had been. Dark. Sterile. Unchanged. Near sat in the exact place he always was... the center of the floor, able to review over everything within the domain; always in complete and total control at all times. Even when all the world was falling apart around them. Mello could hardly breathe… the tension was suffocating.

"Mello."

"Near."

Like clockwork. Like a perfectly synchronized dance, each with their own imperative part. Like a switch -wired to an automatic connection neither of them had any control over.

Mello forced himself to step forward, not wanting to show any sign of intimidation, any wary or trepidation in regard for the situation. _'This is for Michael. Everything is for Michael.'_ He told himself again -the one thing above all else he could be absolutely sure about, no matter what.

"Why is it you've decided to come here tonight?" Near prompted.

Mello exhaled, letting all his nerves fall away that kept him held back, resigning to stick to that one thing he was sure about and perhaps actually _get_ somewhere with Near this time. Anywhere. He stepped further in the room, moving around and sitting on the edge of the couch, noticing for the first time the carefully constructed tower of cards made up as a wall around Near's entire crouched body.

"You know why." He said simply.

"Yes, you mentioned that on the phone earlier, but you were hardly what I'd call specific about what it was your exact intentions were."

"Do I have to be?"

"Assumptions are never the most reliable things to go off of, Mello, you know that." Near's demeaning tone grinded down Mello's nerves, but he knew that was the point behind it -to get him down to break his resolve and get a flat out answer about his intentions and reasons. "I have a good idea what it is your after. With you it can only be one of two things. After all, what _should_ be your number one priority has slipped down in the ranking."

Blue eyes narrowed on Near's back. "I have my priorities in line."

"Obviously not, Mello. Kira should be number one. You know that."

"No, Near, Michael should come first. He's our son…" The words almost hurt to say. The acknowledgment to his rival that they had actually conceived Michael together. the result of something that should have never really been in the first place. The acknowledgment of the hellish situation they were in, on all levels.

He watched the way Near froze all action, the card held between his fingers coming to a sudden halt; it was an interesting response. "You really don't ever listen, do you, dear Mello?" And thus the beginning of their jabs at one another…

Mello's breath caught and almost instantaneously left his body. Such a romanticism hit him where it hurt -bringing with it every memory from before. Everything they had. Everything that was. Everything that could have been. Everything that wasn't. Everything lost. He couldn't let Near get such a rise out of him, but it was easier said than actually done.

"Neither do you, Near." He stood up from his spot, going around and sitting right in front of Near -gray eyes following him down and never faltering a second. The successors were on equal ground and practically equal terms. Separated only by a low wall of carefully constructed cards.

Near's head cocked to the side, "Enlighten me."

"Michael needs both of us."

"If that's what you came here for then you can leave." Those gray eyes that mirrored Michael's moved back down to the wall, beginning to fortify it again. "I don't want to have this same dull conversation again. Furthermore," He continued, "You said before, back at Wammy's, that we could never work together, Mello. Why should Michael be any different of a scenario? Do you honestly think we could ever really work together just for his sake?" There was that demeaning tone again, but the blonde did everything in his practiced power to not let it get to him. Even so, it was difficult to not lash out.

"He's our blood…" Mello explained. "Does it not occur to you that _we_ somehow made him? I'm not so much proposing we work together as I'm asking you not to just abandon him like he's _nothing_."

"Kira is first priority."

"That's not good enough, Near!" Mello practically shouted.

"What kind of life will Michael have if Kira isn't taken down, Mello? What do you think would happen to him if Kira won and then found out who Michael was?" Near's eyes bore straight into Mello's soul. "He'd kill him, Mello. _That's_ the kind of existence you're letting him have. _That's_ what you're bringing about by letting your _emotions_ cloud your better judgment."

Mello's fists clenched on his leg. "It doesn't have to be like that, Near." His anger was rising from Near's inability to hear what he was really saying. He was beginning to think it was impossible for Near to see anything past his own ideas.

"I already told you, Mello I don't want-"

"You don't even know him!"

"It doesn't-"

"He doesn't know what to think. About anything!"

"Well, if you stopped-"

"You have given _nothing_, Near! You have _no_ emotional investment in this! And you just expect the rest of the world to be able to do the same thing!"

Everything went deathly silent after that. Blue eyes met empty gray. Near's head ticked to the side a moment, reading deep into Mello's stone solid face -unwavering in the demands he had for Michael. "_I_ haven't given anything?" Near asked, slow and calm, never breaking eye contact.

Mello glared at him, unfazed. "No, Near. You haven't."

Near watched the elder for another long, drawn out moment before looking down to his wall once more. "Right. Well, be that as it may. I've said it before. I don't want to have this discussion anymore. I don't want to talk about him."

Mello smirked a moment, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding, he rested on his hand and let the tension of the moment seep away from him and diffuse into the room, "Too bad, because I told Michael I'd bring him back one of your toys for him."

All movement in Near came to a screeching halt again, and Mello could have swore he saw Near's eyes widen for a fraction of a second. "Why would you make such an ignorant promise that you knew you could never live up to?"

"There's nothing saying I can't."

"Well obviously I'm implying it, but perhaps it was a bit too understated for you, dear Mello."

"Near you have this entire complex full of toys. Why can't you spare just one for your son? Are you really going to let him down like that?" Mello questioned.

"It's not me letting him down, Mello. _You're_ the one who made the ridiculous promise to him."

The blonde sighed. "Either you give me one, or I steal one before I leave. Your choice. Besides, why don't you get your damn pawns to buy you another just like it, if it _really_ means that much to you?"

"Why don't you just buy him one if it matters that much?" Near retorted.

"I'm not the one with L's entire fortune behind me."

"Then you should have considered_ that_ before you made a promise you couldn't fulfill."

"Near…" Mello sighed. "You're being unreasonable."

"And you're being too emotionally invested again. Some things just can't be helped." Near shot back, never looking at Mello and holding firm to his decision.

"How about this," Mello pushed, earning a small annoyed sigh from Near. "If you give me a toy for our son, I'll stop bringing him up to you." He offered, leaning back with both hands on the floor now.

"I don't think that's possible for you, Mello."

"Well you'll just have to find out, now won't you?"

Near looked up at Mello, meeting his smirking expression, every line in his expression laced with confidence -borderline arrogance, almost. "I'm not making any promises, Mello. Unlike you, I don't make promises I can't live up to. Besides, if you were to promise something like that, then what excuse would you have to come pester me?"

"I don't need an excuse." He leaned forward, feeling himself slipping back into the same mentality he'd had before Michael.

Near looked back at him, their locked gaze saying more than their words ever could. There was just something in their relationship, or something in their long history that made words unneeded and often more cumbersome than anything. They'd spent years memorizing one another's actions, their movements, learning what each action meant underneath it all. And in the end, it was that knowledge that spoke louder and with more power than anything. It was this knowledge of each other that made any progress between them possible.

Near twirled a lock of hair, never breaking eye contact. "I knew _that_ was your real reason." He said, moving their conversation on from Michael to the new topic which always seemed to be underlying everything.

"And?"

"There is no 'and'. You're too lost in your fantasies to be able to distinguish between that and reality. You're playing a dangerous game with yourself, Mello."

"And yet you left the front door of this place open. What does that say about you, Near?"

Near gave a small smirk, "that it proves you're unable to see the reality in any situation."

"You see reality too much."

"There's no such thing."

"Yes there is, and you know it. Reality is such a cruel thing. That's why you leave the door open for me. We both have too much of the thing the other needs most."

"Don't flatter yourself, Mello." Near said, looking down again and continuing to twirl the lock of his snow white hair.

Without a word, Mello leaned forward and touched Near's delicate wall of cards -causing the whole thing to topple over in a heap around the younger genius, who glared over to Mello. A simple action, but the symbolism was blatantly there. Near was always on guard, but for the right people, his guard was nothing more than a simple wall of cards -just waiting for the right movement to bring it down.

"Well?" Mello pushed. "Do we have a deal?" He inched closer to Near.

"No, we never had a deal to begin with because of your inability to follow through with it." Near explained, watching the other carefully while not making any move against him. He exhaled heavily. "This is a dangerous move, dear Mello. You know that." He repeated again.

"Everything is dangerous in some way, Near." Mello said, moving close enough to disrupt the ring of cards around Near -effectively intruding upon the younger's space.

"Not this dangerous." As Mello placed a hand on Near's cool cheek, the younger still made no move against him, or to push him away; their gaze remained locked together. "This is what got us into this position in the first place, Mello."

"Do you trust me?" Mello asked, his tone quiet, as if it would somehow disturb the atmosphere of the room if spoken any louder.

"Must I?"

"Who else would you?"

"Perhaps someone who wasn't the head of the mafia?"

Mello gave him a look, "I'm the truest person you have, Near." He paused, "I'll ask you again." He let the silence suffocate them as he watched Near close his eyes, knowing what was coming. "Do you trust me, Nate?" The words were almost deathly silent, as if speaking too loud would reveal the deadly secret to the rest of the world.

Near gave a small sigh but said nothing in return, silently giving in and in his own way granting Mello his access just by the slightest of action, an action that only Mello could read in him from enough times of experience.

The blonde leaned forward, placing his lips against the skin of Near's cool, immaculate neck. There was a feeling in the back of his mind that said he was unworthy of touching the younger genius -that he was just too perfect for someone like Mello to deserve. And yet here they were. The blonde could hardly believe Near was allowing him to do such a thing again, after all they'd been through. A part of him couldn't help but wonder what the mentality was behind it all, but he decided not to question it. At least not at this second.

He kissed up Near's neck, tracing his jaw line in kisses, letting himself be drifted away by all the converging feelings at once. Near's voice broke through the mist of his smoldering emotions, "Mello… we need to consider the risks behind this." He repeated.

Mello sighed against Near's skin, "Don't kill this for me, Near." He placed another kiss on exposed flesh. "I told you, just trust me. I know what I'm doing." He told him, completely and utterly confident in that moment. There was nothing he knew more about in this world than Near. Nothing he had studied more than his rival's every move, every thought and every reason behind the internal madness. He knew him better than he knew himself -what made him tick, what made him squirm, all the little things that made him worry, all the things that made him feel human.

The small exhale from Near, as well as the turn of his head to give Mello more room was all he needed to tell him that Near was agreeing to give him his trust. It seemed as though no matter what Mello did for or against him, Near was always willing to give the blonde his trust. He couldn't even begin to fathom why that might be as he continued to spread light kisses across the younger's body, deepening this situation into territories they hadn't found themselves in a long time.

It was all new again, but at the same time it was familiar and safe. Mello felt that addicted feeling in his center welling up. Near was his drug, and he couldn't tear himself away no matter how much he may have wanted to. He couldn't help musing to himself that here he was, kissing the neck of arguably the only person he was able to find any solace in for the first time in over four years. It was refreshing, and it wasn't until right at that moment that he recognized just how much he had missed this. No one else felt, or made him feel, the way Near did, and he doubted anyone ever could.

Perhaps, he mused, this was what 'love' felt like, if it actually existed -the ability to find such a feeling of alleviation from the stresses of the rest of the world in one single person. The ability to leave everything else behind just by being in the presence of that other person. The ability to argue, to yell, to positively _despise_ that one person so much that it charred your very soul. But despite it all finding yourself seeking them out time and time again, because it was the only way to feel as though you were with your other half, and completed.

Perhaps this was his actual fantasy all along… Perhaps this is what he really wanted and needed, above all else.

-:-

_Words couldn't begin to describe how awkward Near was constantly feeling. It was difficult for him to try and maintain the same sort of authoritative status over his SPK team while knowing in the back of his mind the situation he was fighting behind it all._

_He could barely even let himself think on it for too long before getting sick to his stomach and having to fix his thoughts on something else. The thought of how he could have possibly let something like this happen plagued him constantly. He had been careless, and foolish and as a result, now he was put in this precarious situation._

_It'd been about a month since he'd gotten the positive results back; confirming that he was indeed pregnant. That his parents sick homebrew experiment had somehow actually been a true success._

_'They would be so proud…' he couldn't help thinking sarcastically to himself as he and Rester walked through the large SPK building, towards the room devoted specifically for this issue. He could feel that sick churning sensation swelling up in his mid-section again just thinking about it all._

_Everything was still up in the air, and he hated having it that way. Whether or not this was even going to hold for a full forty weeks. What he was going to do about the other SPK members, or whether he even was going to tell them anything. Was he going to tell Mello? Was he even going to try and go through with it?_

_He'd already told Rester the situation. Well… the bare minimum of the situation. He'd had no other choice, he needed a connection to the outside world, to orchestrate the commands Near gave him. His second in command was confused, as anyone rightfully would be. But Near hadn't given him the opportunity to ask questions, and wasn't about to start. Rester was to follow orders and get him who and what he needed. That was all. The only one Near deemed worthy of knowing any other detail regarding this situation was the specialist he'd had flown in._

_He suddenly felt Rester's eyes trailing down to him as they walked. "Yes, commander Rester?" He asked without looking to meet his gaze._

_The older man fumbled a bit, "Uh… well… sir. I can't help but wondering what's going to happen now." It was a smart question to pose, considering the spectrum of things that were otherwise off limits to him. Even Near could hear how he was trying to get as many answers as he possibly could without pushing too far._

_Near gave a small shrug, "It's hard to say. There are a lot of variables right now." They stopped in front of the door to the office that'd been set up for this specific purpose. "When I know anything, you'll be the first to know, of course. But right now that's all I can tell you." He said, in his own way ordering him to stay here while he went and tried to get this sorted out._

_Rester merely nodded in response._

_Near exhaled a heavy breath and entered into the large room. It'd been set up with a large wood desk at the side, which was currently scattered with papers from an open file, and an examining table with all the necessary equipment needed hooked up on a side wall. Near swallowed, looking around at it all for the first time. All of it was a hard hit to bringing it into reality for him. There was no denying it… the only thing left was to get his questions answered._

_Seated at the desk at the side was the doctor Near had instructed to be brought in to handle this situation -his name was Dr. Smith, and he was supposedly one of the best obstetricians in the country. Dark brown eyes looked up from behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, taking notice of Near before standing. _

_"Near, I presume. It's good to finally meet." He said, his voice calm, but dripping with an irresistible urge to get down to business and inspect him -the scientific side of him wanting all the answers he could get from examining Near._

_Near nodded, twirling a lock of white hair, "Likewise. I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation based on the file that I've compiled for you, there." He motioned to the open papers on the desk. "So we can get straight down to business. I have a few questions I would like answered, if you don't mind."_

_The doctor nodded, walking around the desk and leaning on edge of it, crossing his arms. "Yes, thank you." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but kept his eyes locked on Near. "Then shall we begin?"_

_Again Near nodded, feeling his nerves beginning to rise to the surface._

_"If you could, please remove your shirt for me." Dr. Smith instructed, going to get one of the necessary machines to begin. This was just supposed to be a check. Just to check to determine what the situation was within Near and where they were going from there. Regardless, Near couldn't help feeling completely on end about it all._

_But he did as instructed, swallowing down all his pride and unbuttoning his shirt -trying to convince himself that this wasn't to check the status of a living being inside him. He tried telling himself that this instead was just a wellness check, like the ones they did every year at the orphanage. Just another standard protocol…_

_Without a word, and without looking down at the small swell he knew was already present in his belly, he went over to the table, laying down on his back, staring straight at the ceiling._

_"Do you have any idea how far along you are?" The doctor asked, suddenly next to him, his pressing eyes scanning over Near's body. _

_"Considering the abnormality of the situation, it's nearly impossible to be completely sure. My rough estimate would be anywhere from eight to ten weeks. No, it's probably closer to ten. But, I'm only about twenty percent sure." He could tell he was rambling as a side effect of nerves, but he attempted to hold it down and remain objective._

_"Right… well… we'll try to get a look and see what we can see. That'll give us a pretty good indication for sure." The doctor explained, turning on his machine and spreading around a cool gel onto Near's stomach. _

_The genius swallowed and closed his eyes, trying to will himself away from this situation. He forced his thoughts to take him elsewhere; bringing him to the only other thing that mattered right now. Kira. He began going over suspects in his head, looking at motives, playing out the previous murders, and reviewing over what little evidence was left from the original L's investigation into the case._

_But then everything fell away when the sound of a rhythmic, continuous whirling sound met his ears. His mind was left completely blank and utterly silent to everything else. In that moment there was nothing that could tear him away from that sound._

_The baby's heartbeat._

_In that moment there was the definitive proof. The living evidence behind everything -the success of his parent's experiment, the proof of everything he and Mello had done, the reality of how careless he had been. The reality that it was now on his shoulders to play God for this living being._

_Everything collided within him at once. A single tear slid from his shut eyes down into his hair. He took a deep breath as the sound continued to reverberate over and over in his ears. _

_Near had been forced to deal with a lot in his life already, but the weight of all of this suddenly seemed too much for him to handle. He suddenly felt as though the world was crushing him down underneath the pressure. What was he supposed to do? For the first time in a long time, he was left with no answers in his reachable sight, and no one to turn to. For the first time, he felt utterly alone in the world._

_"It seems you were right." The doctor's voice cut through. "The baby only seems to be at about ten weeks along." There was a brief pause, "Do you want to see?"_

_"No."_

_Another pause, and Near could feel the doctor's eyes on him, evaluating his reaction._

_"I only need the bare necessities. Nothing more than that." He couldn't let himself get attached. Not to this child. Not to anything. There were too many factors and too many variables to even begin to think that a connection was in any way a good idea._

_"Well honestly, there's nothing more we can really do right now." Dr. Smith told him, taking the Doppler machine away from his stomach and leaving the room in a familiar silence that Near was thankful for. He sat up, taking offered napkins from the elder man and wiping the gel off his mid-section, avoiding all eye contact. "You'll have to continue to come back, though, Near. At least once a week. Just to make sure everything is going well and the child is developing okay."_

_Near grabbed his shirt, beginning to put it on. "In your honest opinion," He began, "What's the likelihood that this will be successful?" He questioned._

_Dr. Smith watched him closely, pushing his glasses up once more as he pondered the question. "Well, it's hard to tell. We don't really know what it looks like in there, what your body is capable of doing and what is hooked up to where. Because I have none of that information, I can't really definitively say." He answered honestly. "But if we're to take the fact that you actually are pregnant as any indication, I would say you have a very high chance."_

_"And what's the possibility of terminating this situation?"_

_The doctor hesitated to answer, locking his gaze on Near. "Well… again it's difficult to say. It could honestly be detrimental to your health to try. But it could also be detrimental to deliver the child regardless of how long you carry." _

_"And I suppose asking whether or not you'd be able to reverse all of the transplants done in me would result in the same answer."_

_He nodded, "Yes. Even that could be detrimental. Your body has had a long time to get used to all the changes, and trying to do something so radical with absolutely nothing telling us what's where and how it's all working could be worse than just leaving everything the way it is now."_

_"So what you're saying is you don't know anything at all." Near spat, annoyed, as he looked over at him, finishing up his shirt buttons._

_He watched the man's jaw lock, "I can only know as much as what the machine tells me. Again, this isn't exactly under normal circumstances." He explained. "But… I will tell you, we can either terminate this pregnancy or you can attempt to carry to term. It's your choice either way. But you'll need to decide fast, because I can only perform an abortion up to thirteen weeks along."_

_"Understood." Near said, getting up and moving to exit from the room. "I'll give you my decision by that time." _

_Rester was still waiting by the door when he walked out. "Well, sir?" He asked, "How did it go?"_

_"I need to make a phone call."_

_An hour later, the late afternoon sky was slowly starting to turn into evening -casting the sky in different hues of deep blues, reds and oranges. While perhaps there was an artist out there capturing the beautiful color in some medium of art, deep within the SPK building, Near was unable to see past the glass walls he was confined behind._

_The earlier meeting with his doctor had rattled him from the inside out in a way he'd never felt before. His whole world felt utterly and completely upside down and backwards all at the same time. He was lost within the maelstrom of conflicting uncertainties of his life._

_Even now, despite it all, he could feel the presence of their mistake within him. No matter how much he tried to push it away, he could unconsciously feel it there, a sensation of something constantly moving within him. Just the thought made him sick, and he tried to pull himself from it._

_The turning of the door handle behind him was what drew him out of his thoughts. Instinctively it pushed all of that out of the forefront of his thoughts. He had a façade to maintain, after all. _

_"Mello."_

_"Near." _

_That familiar voice cut through the tense air, causing Near to let a small smile pass as he twirled a lock of hair. He hadn't seen Mello in a month. Ever since he found out about this situation, he'd refused to let the blonde visit. It was just better that way. Honestly, though, he could barely put his finger on what it was that had driven him to have Mello over now. Whether it was to have a sense of familiarity again, or if it was needing to be forced into a situation of deciding what exactly he was going to do about Mello's involvement in the situation._

_It was imperative for him to decide what he was going to do. Was he going to tell Mello? Was he going to bring him into this and explain everything that was happening and why it was happening? Was it right to involve him? The normal social convention dictated that of course it was right to involve him… but this was Mello he was dealing with, and there was no way Mello would ever be able to see anything from his side._

_But maybe it wasn't the blonde's opinion he was after by calling him here… Perhaps it was just the simplicity of needing that familiarity of a rivalry, or whatever it was they had now, to help him decide all of this._

_"What's been going on, Near?" Mello asked, the clicking of his shoes against the slick floor indicating that he was coming closer. "It's been a while." _

_"Yes, it has…" He answered. "Some things have come up, so it was hard to find time to accommodate you." It was as close as he could get to telling him the truth, and at the same time feeling his natural way of behaving returning. At that moment he felt completely justified in bringing Mello here. Even if it was just to use him as a way of letting his own frustrations out._

_He could practically see Mello's fists clenching. "You could have at least told me that, Near."_

_"I was sure that it went without saying when I didn't answer your phone calls." He retorted easily._

_"Did you just bring me here to make a damn fool out of me?" His voice was tense and strained, holding all his frustration and anger back. Near had to admit, the blonde was doing better at maintaining his temperament. Unfortunately, the younger could feel his natural urge to push Mello and find out just how far Mello's ability to deal with him really went. _

_However, giving his current situation, he decided against it._

_"No, of course not, Mello." _

_"Then why?"_

_A silence fell over the room, Mello waiting for his answer and Near unable to give him one. Even he wasn't positive why he had brought him here. Part of him wanted to tell the blonde what was happening, another part just wanted some normalcy in his life again, while still yet another just wanted to have someone around for a while that wasn't expecting the world of him. _

_Mello stepped forward in front of him and sat down, blocking Near's view of the outside scenery of the city slowly descending into night, the blonde's crystal eyes locked on the younger's gray ones, searching him for the unspoken answer._

_Then, as if Near had been yelling it with just his look all along, the blonde heard it and his features contorted into confusion. "What?" He asked, genuinely concerned. "What is it?"_

_"I don't know what you're talking about." He bluffed._

_"The hell you do. Tell me what's going on." Mello was staring straight through Near, and in all honesty, the new L felt he should have known Mello would. He may have only been second best at Wammy's, but he wasn't inobservant by any sense of the word. In the end, they each knew each other better than that. Even someone as stone-faced as Near couldn't hide much from his rival. _

_Or perhaps it was just that he didn't want to hide it from him anymore…_

_"There's no-"_

_"Near." Mello's voice cut through his lie, and he inched forward, staring straight into empty gray eyes, "What's going on?"_

_Those empty orbs stared back at him, watching the way Mello was genuinely trying to see past the front he was putting up to block it all out. He exhaled slowly, calmly, desperate to maintain his bravado. 'What am I going to do, Mello?' He asked mentally. 'What am I supposed to do?'_

_"Tell me!"_

_'What am I supposed to do!' He screamed inside his head as if the increased volume would somehow translate over to Mello without him having to put it into words. 'What's the right thing to do? What would you have me do?'_

_He watched Mello swallow back all his frustration, close his eyes for a moment to calm himself, then retry. "You can't lie to me. I know you better than that. I see straight through you. Tell me what's going on. You can trust me." His voice was quieter, somber and genuinely sincere._

_Near inhaled a moment, seeing all the passion behind Mello's crystal eyes. He remembered the way they used to look when they were kids, back before the competition for L meant anything to either of them; when they were allowed to just be kids. He remembered the way Mello used to run around, happy and without a care. He remembered how hard Mello chased after his innocence, even after they were deemed old enough to start chasing after the title of L. From those moments on they were constantly in a race against each other. Who would get there first? And yet somehow unconsciously supporting one another at the same time. _

_The perfect team…_

_As he stared straight into Mello's concerned eyes, he decided. 'I'll do this…' He told himself definitely. 'I'll keep this mistake. That's what you'd want, Mello. You'd want this to happen, no matter what. You'd want this to have a shot, despite how reckless it is. You'd want to break our cycle. So, perhaps for you alone…' His thoughts suddenly changed. 'No. Not just for you. This could work. For the sake of the world. We destroyed any opportunity to be the perfect team under the title of L. But… maybe this mistake could prove to be what Wammy's wanted us to be. We could finally be everything everyone wanted us to be.'_

_Near exhaled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him, even if it was for only a moment -the reality of having to carry around the proof of his recklessness seeping back into his mind. He then shook his head. "It's nothing that concerns you, Mello. Kira is a difficult criminal to pinpoint exactly." He covered._

_The answer was acceptable to the blonde, as his look of concern dropped. "Well, of course he is." He said, "don't bother, though. I'll have him found in a matter of days!"_

_Near couldn't help the small smirk, "right… of course you will."_

-:-

Gray eyes slid open, meeting the dawn of morning outside the large windows of the SPK building. He exhaled, letting that memory slowly slide back into the recesses of his mind. He tried not to dwell on thoughts from that time any longer than he had to, but it was difficult to when Mello was constantly throwing it in his face with reckless abandon.

Though, Near knew he couldn't completely blame Mello for his ignorance. It was in his nature to throw around things he didn't completely understand.

He looked beside him, to the other side of his bed, finding Mello still sleeping there. He knew he'd have to wake him up soon so he could leave before any of the SPK members arrived for their day of work. He didn't even want to begin to think of what he might say if any of them ran into the blonde mafia boss.

Near turned to him for a moment, observing how peaceful his face was when he slept. He couldn't help wondering if Mello always looked that at ease when he slept, or if it was just something saved especially for when he was here. It was quite the vain thought, but Mello had hardly given him reason to think otherwise.

He reached out, carefully twirling a lock of Mello's silky blonde hair between his fingers, relishing in the feeling of it for just a moment before letting it fall back into place -not wanting to wake the elder successor before absolutely necessary.

_'Perhaps I give him too much leeway…' _Near couldn't help thinking to himself. _'His emotions cloud over the true perspective of our situation. I hardly doubt he has any distinction between what's in his head and what's actually happening. Though… perhaps it's better for him that way.'_ As he got out of bed and dressed himself, he had to admit that he couldn't imagine Mello any other way than lost in his feelings and emotions.

He exited the bedroom, back out into the empty living space, feeling a chill run over him at how dead the whole space felt. Not that it was unwarranted. The only time he ever used the space anymore was when he was waiting for Mello to arrive.

That being said, the same wasn't true during the few months that he was locked in these rooms -completely separated from his investigation, separated from all his SPK members, utterly away from everything and everyone. The months where he showed too much while pregnant with Michael, all the way up till after he had delivered him.

Those terribly secluded months where it was only him and his unborn child trapped in a single area. It had been a constant and nearly impossible task for him to keep on track with the investigation and at the same time try to be unaffected by the feeling of Michael moving inside of him, and keeping himself from getting attached to the child. It was something that even to this day he had an internal battle over whether or not he had actually succeeded at his goal.

He couldn't help but sigh, looking out onto the city that was just starting to wake up and come alive. _'What kind of life is Michael living in, now?'_ He shook the thought out of his head almost as quickly as it appeared. _'He was better off at Wammy's.'_ But as he looked back at the door to the bedroom, he couldn't help wonder if he could really blame Mello for taking him out of there. Sure, the place was the only realistic place to raise him so he had any shot of being his successor, but even Near knew what that kind of pressure put on someone.

_'How is his childhood different now, though, with Mello?'_ His thoughts wondered again. He instantly shook them off with a sigh, practically hating himself for letting it slip into his thoughts. But even so, it felt like an impossible task that he couldn't help brooding over. And even if it wasn't about Michael specifically, it was over where their child was at. What did he have to do? What did he spend his time doing? Did Mello take him out? The thoughts were clouding his judgment. At least at Wammy's Near could be sure he was safe, taken care of properly and constantly mentally stimulated in preparation for a future he was destined to do.

Mello obviously could only do so much for Michael, given his limited ability to move or gain access to the necessary things to help their son. He grit his teeth, unsatisfied with the situation but deciding it was his duty to fix Mello's mistake. He couldn't help wishing that was the first time he'd had thought.

He went over to a side closet, opening the door and revealing all the toys he'd stashed there from the time when he lived here nearly twenty-four seven. There was everything from dice, to robots, to toy rockets and boxes of models he'd yet to put together. Each one had their own memory associated with them, which made this task even harder.

_'What am I doing? This isn't my responsibility. Mello brought this on himself, he should be the one to fix it.'_ He wondered as he looked around the closet, getting an empty box from the side and putting it in front of him. He swallowed, _'I'm simply stimulating his imagination. Every good detective needs a good sense of imagination and creativity.'_ He justified to himself.

_'But with what? Well… what does he see all day? What does he do all day?'_ He looked around, finally spotting something that might work. _'He sees cars all day, I'm sure. This is New York, after all.'_ He grabbed a toy car from the shelf, putting it gently in the box. _'But this is New York. One car is an unrealistic notion.'_ He began placing a few more of the cars into the box. _'But where will the cars drive? Driving anywhere is just total anarchy.'_ He put in a set of toy tracks. _'But it's not just cars he sees… there are buildings! And people!'_

An hour later, a groggy and shirtless Mello stepped out of the bedroom, stretching out his tired limbs above his head. "What time is it?" He asked, looking over to Near who was messing with a robot in the center of the room.

"About seven in the morning. You should go before my taskforce finds you here. I'm sure you know how to get out the back." He explained without looking at the blonde.

"Yeah… I've been here enough times." He said, sighing and beginning to slip his vest on again, wondering to himself, for what had to be the hundredth time, if _this_ was the last time Near would want him to come over.

"Don't forget your box."

"Hm? What box?" But just as he asked it, Mello's sharp eyes caught the sight of a box sitting by the front door, filled past the rim with toys of all different shapes, sizes, and designs. He couldn't help a small smile, "you know, Near, there may be hope for you yet." He commented.

And although Near refused to answer him, his pride too high to admit what he'd done for the son he said he didn't care for, Mello knew he had seen past it. He had somehow inadvertently reached a sort of turning point with the new L in regard to their son. It would certainly be interesting to see what would happen between them from here.

* * *

><p>AN: Well… that was interesting. I'm really interested to hear what you have to say about this. I went through a range of emotions while writing this. From loving, to hating, to awkwardness, to pure rage. So, leave me your thoughts, whatever they are! I tried to keep everything as in character as possible, but maybe a bit of OOC slipped in. I'm not sure anymore. Also, don't expect chapters to be this length from now on! I started writing the flashback, and when I realized I wanted the last part of this chapter, I knew I couldn't separate it into two chapters or it wouldn't sound right. Hence extra super long chapter. But, yeah… Even _I_ will be interested to see where all of this goes in the next chapter!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	12. Noise

A/N: So it's official that I am _going_ to end this story! For one, there's not that many chapters left to be covered, all things considered. Honestly, I'm kind of bleeding it out because I can't make hard decisions on my own, and nobody wants to help me anymore. But, anyway, back to what I was saying. I had an epiphany the other night, instantly sprang from my bed, and wrote down the dialogue for the ending of this story. Therefore, there is an ending already halfway written. Therefore there will be one posted. Now to just get from point A to point C and hope I can figure out a decision before that point… Actually, that's why this chapter was postponed a bit. Because I'm really hesitant about continuing posting things when I'm unsure of myself. But anyway, here you go. Let me know your thoughts!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12<span>: Noise

For the first time since bringing Michael out of Wammy's and to New York, the blonde was actually excited to get back to his small, shared apartment. It was the first time since all of this started that he actually felt he had good news to give Michael. He had in his possession this box of toys which Near had not only lowered his pride enough to sacrifice for their son, but had individually picked each out and personally put together for him.

Near's personal toys he used for investigations. An entire box. Hand-picked just for Michael. Mello could hardly wrap his mind around that fact. A part of him was still expecting to wake up at any moment…

_'There's hope,' _Mello told himself. Near's actions led the blonde to believe that perhaps there was somewhere deep within Near's mechanical body which cared about their son. Given the circumstances, it was the only explanation that made sense. Near could be selfish, not to mention stubborn, in his own way; and in any other situation he would never give up something of his own for someone else unless he had something to benefit from the move.

But there was nothing to benefit from this move. Therefore, he had to have done it out of some goodness in his heart. There was some part of him which had to care. It was hard to imagine that that could even be possible for him.

Mello's blue eyes narrowed on the road passing by in front of him. Caring… Near didn't _care _about anything.

Right?

Did he?

_Could_ he?

No. It wasn't possible. Caring was never an advantage in Near's eyes, and Mello knew better than to think that Near would consciously allow himself to make that mistake. No matter what situation they were in. He was too cautious for that. In the end, he was too much of a machine to let anything come between him and his job.

But everything indicated that it was just the opposite. When he thought about it, Mello couldn't help seeing all the things Near did which alluded to the fact that perhaps he wasn't as much of a robot as everyone had always assumed he was.

He gave their son his own personal toys. He let Mello keep Michael. He let Mello go to the SPK building time and time again for no other reason by to just talk about Michael, and try to get Near to be a part of their son's life. Hell, Near carried Michael inside him for nine months. Further than that, Near gave Michael to the one place he knew he would be properly looked after, and taken care of. He'd had the sense of mind to place their son in the one place on Earth where Near could remain far enough away from him to keep anything from happening, and yet at the same time he'd be able to have a constant eye on Michael, if he so chose.

The breath caught in Mello's throat as everything collided in him at once. In one fell swoop all doubt was erased from his mind. Near cared about Michael. Even if it was just an inkling of affection, it was something Mello was willing to work with. After all, even a candle has the potential to light a room.

As Mello pulled into a parking space of their apartment and got out of the car, taking the box of toys with him, he couldn't shake the thought from his mind. Near cared. And Mello had been too blinded by his own anger and hate towards the younger to be able to see the true motives behind it all. He'd insensitively shoved Michael at Near in the hopes that something would stick. That wasn't a productive way for things to work, and in that moment he suddenly felt like some sort of wrench that'd been thrown into the machinery of Near's carefully formulated plan.

Near had more than likely planned all of this from the beginning. From the moment he decided to keep Michael, whenever that was, and for whatever reason it had been, Near had probably constructed this entire plan. Give Michael to Wammy's in order to be the next successor and keep him safe from ever being tied back to L. Keep Mello out of everything so he didn't interfere and jeopardize the whole thing.

That was just like Near. Hell, that was just like Mello to get involved and destroy everything.

_'No wonder Near was so pissed when I told him I took Michael from Wammy's… Not that he should have been expecting anything less once I found out about him.'_ Mello thought to himself as he made his way to the apartment.

Still, he couldn't help feeling as though he'd once again lived up to everything he was when he was a child. He'd fallen into a trap because of his emotions. He's put everyone at risk because he couldn't just stop and think critically for half a second before doing anything. In the end, it made him no better now than what he was when he left Wammy's all those years ago. He was still just a child, still clinging to the hope that perhaps if he tried hard enough he'd be noticed for something good, for the first time in his life.

He bit his tongue to keep his frustration at bay. The fact of the matter was that Michael was out of Wammy's, and Mello had no intention of bringing him back. Mello had unconsciously set so much into motion in one move. More importantly, though, what did the results of his actions mean now, for him? For Michael? What was Mello supposed to do now, with all this new information?

He stepped through the front door of the apartment, carefully clicking it closed again as it was still early and he didn't want to wake anyone. However, the moment he looked up his eyes fell onto familiar large gray orbs, watching him from the living room floor. Of course Michael was up this early… All his fear and frustrations, all the chaotic noise in his head fell away, like the peaceful calm after it rains, the moment Mello looked upon Michael.

A sudden surge of guilt rose in his center, pervading the sense of calm he got from looking at his son. _'What am I going to do now?'_ He couldn't help thinking. _'I can't risk you being put in danger because of me…'_

"What are you doing up so early?" He asked, keeping his tone low as it looked like Matt wasn't up yet, and trying to keep his internal struggles at bay.

The boy instantly got up from the floor where he'd surrounded himself with his few toys and ran over to the older blonde. "I couldn't sleep." He answered, looking up at Mello expectantly. "What's in the box?" His tone matched his expecting expression. He knew what was in them, he just wanted Mello to tell him.

"You know what's in here." Mello shot back at him playfully, trying to put all his questions behind him for just this one moment and focus only on Michael. The most important thing in his life. "But you have to wait till Matt gets up. I don't know if you were good for him last night." He told him with a small smirk.

Michael's small hands clenched up into small fists, his facial features contorting into frustration. "I'm always good!" He countered. "Please can I have it?" His arms extended up, his fingers grabbing the air for the box. "I promise I was good!"

"Alright, alright. Here, don't make too much of a mess, got it?" Mello warned, going over to the living room and setting the box down for Michael to inspect.

The young boy's face instantly came alight and a huge smile passed across his face. "There're so many toys!" He exclaimed happily. "Are all these for me, Daddy?"

"Of course they are." Mello told him, unable to help his smile at seeing Michael so happy. He was glad Near had relented and given him all this. In its own way, it meant a lot even to Mello for the younger to do that. "I mean, unless you don't want them. I can always take them back."

Michael gasped, practically throwing himself over the box of toys. "No! My Mama gave me these! They're mine now! You can't take them back! They're special!" He explained desperately.

Mello chuckled, "I'm not going to take them back, Michael. You know that." He told him, going back to the front door and sliding off his jacket, hanging it on a hook by the exit.

"Lookit all the toys in here! Do you wanna play cars with me, Daddy?" Michael asked, looking over to his dad.

Mello looked back, meeting those gray eyes and for a moment swearing it was a younger, more innocent version of Near looking back at him, not their son. It was interesting. He couldn't help wondering if he was looking at a view of how Near could have been, if he hadn't gone through the life experiences he had. He shuddered at the thought, forcing his attention back to Michael.

Even when Mello was a kid, he'd never been one for toys… he'd rather be outside kicking a ball around with the kids from the orphanage. He just didn't have the level of creativity and imagination that someone like Near did. But then, when he remembered how much Michael always wanted to go outside and play, he figured his son was probably like him in that respect. He just happened to have a good imagination, as well. "Sure," he told him, "Why not." Despite everything, he wasn't about to tell his son no.

He went back over to where Michael was in the middle of the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor while the young boy dug through the box beside him, a huge smile plastered across his face.

"Here, Daddy, you can have this one!" Michael told him, handing him a little red car before diving back in his box and beginning to pull out plastic buildings and roads and other cars -beginning to make his own little city on the floor.

"Why this one?" Mello had to ask, pushing it back and forth across the wood floor nonchalantly with his index finger.

"Because red is your favorite color!"

"It is?" He looked up at his son.

"Yeah!"

"Why do you say that, Michael?"

"Well…" Michael began driving a blue car around the floor in random directions, often picking it up as though the car was flying over some invisible barrier. "It must be. Your jacket's red. The covers on the bed are red. The car outside is red, too. There's a lot of red."

Mello's eyes widened a bit in surprise at his son. "So there is…" He commented offhandedly. "Well, aren't you observant." He smiled, proud, reaching over and tousling Michael's soft blonde locks of hair.

"Was I right?" Michael asked, moving out from under Mello's hand and looking up at him expectantly. "Is your favorite color red?"

Mello nodded, "Yeah, it is."

"You know what _my_ favorite color is?" Michael asked excitedly.

"What?"

"You have to guess!"

Mello thought a moment, knowing that if he really considered it and looked over everything he could probably deduce his way to the answer. But at the moment, given everything trying to force its way into his thoughts, and everything that'd happened with Near, he didn't feel he had the energy to really give it his all.

"Red. Just like mine." He threw out, with a sly smile.

"Nope!" He held up his own toy car. "Blue!"

He patted his son's head again, "Looks like you're more observant than even me, Michael. You'll make a great L someday." He said without thinking. But immediately after he found himself considering whether or not he could ever really envision his happy, care-free son taking up the pressure of being L. He'd heard the stories of the way L was, both physically and psychologically as a result of taking on all the world's problems on his shoulders. He knew well the pressure and the affects it could have.

Was that really what he wanted for Michael? Was having the perfect combination of himself and Near able to succeed them worth the damage it could do to him? Was Mello willing to let Michael live a life of seclusion away from the world just for the world's personal use?

"You do know Near is L right now, don't you, Michael?" Mello continued, when Michael's happy look fell away and he turned back to his car.

"Yeah. Uncle Matt said he was first in Wammy's because you and my Mama left. So, my Mama must be L. Plus, when I was at Wammy's, everyone used to tell me I'd be L someday. I didn know why. But, if my Mama's L, then… yeah." His tone drifted off.

Mello's head cocked to the side. "What do _you_ want to be when you grow up, Michael?"

Michael's small shoulders shrugged, "I dunno. L is kinda scary…" He said, "I just wanna drive cars!" He held up his blue car again.

Mello nodded, "Well, you are good at that." He told him, attempting to drop the subject. Michael was too young to be attempting to put the weight of L, or anything relating to it, on his fragile shoulders. The absolute last thing he would ever want to do is to cause a break in Michael, somehow, because he put too much on him. Perhaps, though, a part of him was afraid that Michael may end up too much like himself if he exposed his son to too much too fast.

-:-

For hours the young boy continued pushing his car around the makeshift city he'd created; silent and lost within his own world. He barely spoke to Mello and barely recognized that he was even there, let alone attempted to play with him. But something kept Mello rooted to his spot. Call it a parental instinct, but something told him that Michael wanted him around not necessarily to actually play together, but more to just be in his presence, and be able to constantly know that Mello was there with him, in his own way keeping him company.

It was easy. It was comfortable. It was nice.

A part of Mello never wanted to move from this spot. In this moment he could just be left at ease with Michael, and didn't have to worry about what he was going to do from one moment to the next, or finding himself second guessing what kind of life he was giving them both. They could just _be_. And it was one of the few times in his life he'd ever had that feeling.

Though, ironically, the only other times had all been with Near.

_Bzzzz…_

The buzzing of Mello's phone vibrating in his pocket brought him out of his trance-like state and back into reality. Looking up, through the windows as he dug the phone out he noticed the strong light coming in. It had to be mid-day by now. Time had flown by them without even the slightest chances of catching it. And somehow Mello was okay with that.

Michael looked up at him as Mello flipped open the phone, "Yeah?"

"Mello." Near's voice came from the other end of the line, making Mello's heart instantly drop from the cavity in his chest. He couldn't place why Near brought that feeling out of him, but somehow talking to his rival always brought out a sense of impending doom, in him. Something always went wrong around Near…

His brow scrunched into confusion, "What do you want?" He spat out venomously before even having the thought to catch himself.

There was a moment of pause on the other end, as if Near took Mello's tone and considered not even continuing the call for a brief second. But after a pause, his voice came across once more, "this is just a consideration call, so I'll make it brief."

"A consideration call?"

"I've almost figured out who Kira is. The case is coming together and I'll be able to put it to an end, soon. As such, my team is moving our headquarters to Japan from here on out."

Mello's fingers clenched into a fist. The sense of impending doom was definitely upon him, and it was in the form of Near winning the only case L couldn't finish. His fire to beat Near to Kira suddenly felt rekindled in that moment. "Sounds like you're catching up to my investigation." He bluffed, "It's about time. So why are you telling me?"

"Right…" Near's smooth voice responded, placating Mello. "Well you have been over quite a bit, recently. I figured it was only fair to inform you of our move, so you don't show up to an empty building."

"No need. We'll be heading there as well. This race is still on, Near." He told him, avoiding Michael's stare. He knew if he met his son's eyes he'd have to let him listen to their conversation considering it was the only time Michael ever got any connection to Near. But at this moment, he couldn't exactly be sure what he might say to the younger genius.

"Of course it is." His words came across belittling, but he continued before Mello could fire back. "Take this as a genuine warning, Mello. Be careful. You're treading on very fragile territory. You may think there is a lot to gain, but there is exponentially more to be lost, here." It was Near's way of telling Mello to back out of the race for Kira. That Near would handle it and that it wasn't Mello's place to be involved in it anymore.

The ex-mafia boss wasn't having any of it. "You're not going to win this, Near."

"Mello…"

"I'll call when we're in Japan." He then hung up the phone, setting it much too forcibly on the floor. His blood was boiling in his veins. The nerve Near had to try and tell him not to chase after Kira anymore. The gall he had to tell Mello what he should do. Perhaps he had given Near too much credit where it wasn't due, in regard to having any sense of empathy or understanding of human beings.

"Daddy? What'd my Mama say?" Michael asked, breaking Mello from his thoughts and silencing all the static noise in his head and anger in his heart in such few words.

He finally looked over to his son, who watched him with questioning gray eyes, trying desperately to read what was going on between the two. It was obvious Michael wanted to know more about the current relationship between Mello and Near, and yet at the same time he could sense how tumultuous things were, and thus was hesitant to ask.

He exhaled, "It looks like we're going to Japan, now."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry this took a bit longer than the last two chapter's spacing was, and was a bit more rough than I would have liked. I've been fighting myself a lot recently regarding whether or not all the things I'm trying to get across are actually translating over into my words. So I don't know… If you think so, I'd appreciate you telling me. This story has so many levels and so much character growth and layers that it's hard for even _me_ to keep straight sometimes. But yeah. Next chapter will more than likely be strictly a memory only. But I'll try to make it worth your while! Until then though, any thoughts you have I would greatly appreciate you letting me know. Until next time!

Please review  
>-<em>Forbiddensoul562<em>


	13. Shock

A/N: Holy hell I am so sorry. You think the past chapters caused me a whole swell of emotions? I literally stopped writing this because of the fear of how OOC this could potentially become. But I forced myself to sit down and write it out today, though. So, hopefully it is alright. Also hopefully the next few chapters won't be this hard or time consuming. So, please read and let me know what you think. I put two hundred percent into this chapter and I like to think it shows it, but your opinions mean most. So, yeah.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

Chapter 13: Shock

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><p><em>It started sometime around midnight…<em>

_Ring_

_Near looked over to where his phone sat on a small side table across the room from him. His eyes narrowed on the delicate communication device as it vibrated across the polished wood surface, breaking the once inanimate silence of the living room. _

_Grey eyes narrowed and his mind at once brought up a grid of all the possibilities which could be on the other end of the line. After this he then began filing these listings into categories of least likely options to most likely, then doing a quick review of each option before discarding them out based on qualities such as the current time -close to 12 AM, level of possible importance on the Kira case, and general knowledge of the social construct of time appropriateness of phone calls._

_In the end, history told Near that it could, realistically, only be one person._

_Ring_

_Yet he was still looking for reasons why it could possibly be anyone else. _

_With a thriftless sigh he turned back to the scaled down model of the city he'd built up around him. It was a project he'd meticulously worked on for the months he'd been locked here alone. He resolved that he would let it ring itself back into slumber on its wooden bed. Biting the side of his mouth he told himself that this wasn't the right time. He couldn't stand to hear the voice on the other end of the line. He didn't yet have the right words…_

_Facing him meant facing his own reality head on. It meant that for a brief moment in time, he couldn't live within his fabricated lie that none of this was happening. It meant he'd have to confront the fact that for the first time in his life, someone had caused his walls to fall. He'd have to acknowledge that he had allowed himself to make a miscalculation. He'd have to acknowledge that he really didn't know what he was doing anymore, and that letting his walls fall had brought about a feeling of desolation which he had never experienced to this level before. And he really didn't know how to deal with it._

_Talking to him would make him have to face that fact that for the first time, being alone may not be the best solution. That the mock feeling of companionship and banter was what he needed most._

_He'd been secluded at the top of this building within his own living quarters for nearly five months; ever since it became too difficult to hide his reality from his coworkers. It'd been even longer since he'd seen him. In the back of his mind he couldn't deny that it was taking its toll. _

_Ring_

_Near grit his teeth till he thought they would snap under so much pressure, pushing his utter feeling of emptiness to the side. 'Go away. How dare you call me.' His outer façade shouted at the phone on the table._

_At that moment he felt a surge of pressure pass throughout his mid-section, forcing him to release the pressure he was putting on his teeth to instead gasp in cool air, while at the same time resisting some instinctual urge to grab his inflated middle. He closed his eyes, trying to get himself back under control._

_"Stop." He said aloud, unsure of whether he was talking to himself, or to the unborn child inside him. He desperately tried not to talk to it whenever he could catch himself. He tried to ignore the feeling of it having hiccups every now and then, he tried not to look when the child pushed outward and you could almost see a hand or a foot. Further, he tried not to acknowledge the feelings of this living being twisting and turning inside him, kicking and prodding as if such actions would give it more room inside Near. The child was never content, always testy and seemingly out to make Near's everyday activities more difficult. He constantly tried not to tell himself how much this little human was already like Mello._

_Mello… the blonde tornado of emotion who at one time was Near's sole source of humanity in an otherwise isolated, cold, robotic life. Near couldn't remember a time when he had been separated from Mello for as long as they had been over the past five months; it was odd to not have his competitor always somehow in the picture of his life. For what it was worth, Near never thought he would actually miss all the commotion. _

_He'd originally thought he would enjoy the peace and quiet of not having Mello around all the time, always meddling in his investigations and always being that additional variable that Near constantly had to factor into every calculation he did. He'd thought it would be a positive change to only have the Kira case to focus his time on. _

_The reality of the situation, though, was that taking out that one minute variable suddenly made the entire equation much more dull. All the excitement which made those grey numbers spin around him indiscriminately were taken out so all they did was sit there motionless, waiting for him to give them a practical use._

_Ring_

_Without a second thought he pushed himself up off the floor as best he could considering his swelling stomach and made his way over to the table where the bright screen of his phone displayed a blocked number. He reached out for it, pausing only momentarily as all the questions cluttered his brain in that last desperate second. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?_

_He shook his head. It'd been five months since he'd seen Mello, and if Mello was as addicted to whatever sort of relationship they had before all of this, then the blonde would be the one calling the shots. Or at least Near was willing to let him think that he was. Though, for what it was worth, perhaps letting Mello decide the course of events was the best course of action at the moment._

_Well, within reason, of course._

_The phone rang one more time before Near held his breath and reached for it, clicking it on and bringing it to his ear. "Mello." He said dryly in an exhale, his eyes closed while his other hand reached up to twirl a lock of hair as he tried to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest._

_There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. The time and space between them was volatile, ready for just the briefest sparks to set everything into a whirl of chaos. The silence and the tension alone were enough to start to raging flood of natural instinct coming back to him -reminding him what it was like to compete, what it felt like to know that he held something that someone else wanted so desperately they would kill for it. Each passing millisecond felt like a year and it reminded him what being truly alive and fighting actually felt like._

_"Where have you been?" Mello's voice was thickly laced with a practiced restraint. Years of practiced memorization reminded him of all Mello's subtle hints and clues. Mello was an airplane cockpit and Near was the only one on Earth well versed enough in each of the unlabeled buttons, levers and gears to know how to make him fly. At this moment, years of tried and tested methods told him that Mello's restraint would not be holding out for long._

_"Where I've always been, Mello. Though, in the scheme of things that really isn't any of your business." Near explained. Words couldn't explain just how wonderful it felt to just be able to speak with another human being again so easily. Moreover, it felt spectacular to speak with someone who knew him so well… who gave him the chance to let out all his pent up frustration and anger. Even if it was in his own obscure way._

_"Cut the shit, Near. I haven't been able to get a hold of you for almost a year. What the hell has been happening?" Near's eyes slipped open, reading between the carcinogenic words. Mello thought he had somehow been killed by Kira… the concern was almost sweet, even if the delivered packaging was lined with razorblades._

_"Don't be dramatic, it's been eight months. Besides, if anything had happened, I have no doubt you would have heard something." Near countered smoothly. Just as he said it, though, another surge of pressure resounded through his middle, this time more intense than it had been earlier. His hand left his hair, but he stopped himself before he could reach down to rub the area. 'Not now.' He found himself saying. _

_"I'm not being dramatic!"_

_"You're letting your emotions lead you again, Mello." He couldn't help the small smile. It definitely was a very inconceivable, unhealthy, lifelong partnership they had. Thankfully they also had the added benefit that without a catalyst, the relationship didn't evolve on its own._

_"Regardless!" Mello practically shouted, "You couldn't even be bothered to answer any of my calls for eight damn months, Near? What the hell has been going on? Why? What happened?"_

_Near paused a moment, taking in each of Mello's words, registering the tone and volume of his words in practiced mnemonics. He was worried. He was stressed. He was near violence. Life had used and abused him, and Near had taken away Mello's only outlet._

_Mello was breaking, and it was Near who was breaking him._

_Near exhaled, feeling eight months of separation, and his reinforced walls he'd built up over that time to protect him against the outside he'd been burnt by, were suddenly coming crashing down at the mercy of mere words._

_"Mello…" He muttered in a crestfallen exhale, his double-crossing heart reminding him just how much he too had wanted some kind of contact, and reminding him that he too wanted to be made to forget the situation they had gotten themselves into. _

_Near wanted to be reminded that he was still the best. But in that somebody was obsessed with him because they believed that fact rather than as a way to gloat about it. He had wanted to know that he was still as capable of a detective as he'd been before all of this. When it came down to it, Near had spent so much time alone, just staring for endless hours at the same case information with barely any leads that it made him begin to question himself. Life was stacking everything up against him, and if there was one thing on this Earth that Near didn't handle well, it was self-induced pressure._

_There was a long silence between them, both blundering around in what their lives had become during the time they were separate. Reveling in the things the cruel world had done to their lives; what they had brought upon themselves. They were living in the past for the briefest of moments, yet neither of them would ever be able to lower their pride enough to put that into words. _

_"I'm coming over." Mello finally broke in._

_"No, you're not." Near shot back, hardly fazed by Mello's impulsive move. The question of why any of this separation had happened didn't matter to the blonde anymore. What mattered was fixing the created split at any cost._

_"Watch me." _

_Near shot into commander mode; unconsciously reminding himself that he wasn't ready to deal with Mello being anywhere close to him right now. He was stable, and he was well collected, but Mello had the power to break him with the right combination of words, and Near was not ready to deal with that. _

_"The front entrance is locked, Mello."_

_"I'll break in." Near really wasn't sure how to deal with such an admitted level of desperation; it really wasn't in the blonde's character. Well… not when it was directed specifically at him, anyway._

_"It'll trip the security." Near explained without an ounce of emotion "You'll never make it past the second floor." The pressure in his middle started once more, this time more intense than the previous two times had been. He cringed as he gripped a lock of hair tight between his fingers; practically ripping the follicles from his head. 'Stop.' He willed._

_"Try me."_

_"Mello," A bolt of electric pain shot through him, nearly bringing him to his knees from the intensity. "Stop!" He said forcibly, no longer sure if he was saying it to the blonde, or to the child inside him. _

_He was met with yet another tense silence on the other end of the line and for a brief second Near wondered if Mello had abandoned his phone and was making true on what he intended to do. He shook it off though, because for as impulsive as Mello was, he wasn't quite that foolish._

_"You can't just act on such impulsion." Near continued, fighting against the pain racking his body. His hand left his hair and reached for the wooden table for stability to keep him off the floor -it was enough of a task standing with his body as un-proportional body as it was, let alone when it was causing him this much pain. "That'd be foolish."_

_"Well then," Mello spat through gnashed teeth. "What do you suppose I do, Near?"_

_"Wait. Just wait." Near told him, the pain increasing in him just as his mind clicked and told him why this was happening. His heart dropped through the floor. 'No. Not right now!' He practically shouted to himself. He wasn't ready. He hadn't had nearly enough time to come to terms with this. "This isn't…" He swallowed, finding words difficult to come by with his mind racing between the thoughts of how he was going to make it to his doctor's office a few floors below in this amount of pain, and at the same time keeping Mello from making any unsound moves._

_"Near?" All frustration had left Mello's tone._

_"This isn't the right time." Near forced out upon realizing he hadn't finished his sentence. His composure was slipping with the added pain. Who knew what it was really from. The pain of birth? The pain of his body rejecting the thing inside him? "Things are kind of at an apex at the moment."_

_"Kind of? What kind of apex?"_

_He gripped the phone tighter, eyes forced shut as he tried to focus on Mello. It wasn't like Near to use unsure words like 'kind of'. He always knew his situations through and through. Well, all but this one. _

_His breathing came through thick and forcibly labored. "It's none of your business, Mello." He explained, "perhaps if you're investigation was going well, if you're even still conducting one, you would know what I was talking about." He wasn't sure if the words were a jab at Mello because he was frustrated and in such a dire situation, or because he was taking it out on him for somehow just not being able to figure this whole thing out. It was irrational, and he hated himself for that, but pain clouded his judgment and rationality in that moment._

_He could almost see Mello's eyes narrowing on him with an unladed surge of anger. "Near…" Mello warned._

_"I trust you to make the right judgment." Near told him, too fed up with everything suddenly colliding all at once to assure the situation with Mello stayed where he needed it to. Literally. Something in his mind told him he could trust Mello to know better than to just show up at his headquarters, no matter how angry he was. _

_Without waiting for a response he dropped the phone down onto the table with a loud crack as it smacked against the wood, not even bothering the disconnect the line. It would run out of battery eventually, he justified._

_At that moment all the pain in his stomach hit him with its full force, practically taking him to the ground from sheer intensity. His legs shook and he bit his lip till it felt it would bleed just to keep from crying out. 'The phone's still on.' He told himself. 'Assuming Mello hasn't disconnected it yet, I have to be quiet. I can't risk it.' He bit harder at his bottom lip as he staggered over to the door leading outwards._

_'We really should have made a better plan for this.' He chastised as he pushed himself step by step down the hall towards the elevator, one hand pushing against the wall as if it gave him some form of added speed or stability against falling. 'This is quite an inconvenient process of events; from both sides of this, really.' Even as he told himself that he reminded himself of who's child this was. Mello had proven that he was only physically capable of two types of timing: eerily pristine or tortuously wrong. As such, it was no real surprise that his offspring turned out the same way. Near really should have known before now that impulse would be a dominant trait over logical. In any other situation he'd roll his eyes at such a fact._

_Wobbling into the elevator Near pushed the corresponding button to the level where Dr. Smith's office was. It was getting quite late, and there was the chance he had already gone to bed in the room Near had designated for him to stay in during the entirety of the successor's pregnancy. But he reasoned that he would deal with that as the situation unfolded._

_When the elevator dinged on the lower level of the skyscraper, he pushed himself out while trying desperately to ignore the shots of pain every miniscule movement of his body sent through him. He pushed the door to the office open, trained eyes instantly moving over to where a desk light was turned on at the side of the room. Behind it, reading through some file was his doctor, who's dark eyes instantly met Near's._

_"Near?" He asked, standing and still connecting the mental dots to the situation at hand. "What's wrong?"_

_"Time." Was all Near could force out, both as a combination of the pain he was feeling and because any other words just sounded wrong and unfitting given the abnormal circumstances. _

_The doctor merely sighed, the picture of perfect patience. As much as Near wished he too could have such an outward patience at this time, another part of him couldn't help but be put off by the consideration that perhaps the good doctor wasn't quite realizing the severity of the situation, though almost instantly he put the thought out of his mind in favor thinking perhaps it was instead a means of trying to keep Near calm. If that was the case, it wasn't working._

_"We're going to have to move quickly. Come lay on the table. How long has this been happening?" He asked, moving over to a side counter which contained a variety of medical supplies and tools. _

_"About an hour. Give or take some time." Near hobbled over as best as his body would in its current state, somehow making it up onto the table and staying in a seated position. His nerves began wracking his mind almost to the point of dulling out the pain he was feeling. Going into this pregnancy he had always fully known that there was the capability that he could die at any point, with the birth being the most risky part of all. He'd been very accepting of that fact, telling himself time and again that the greater good was worth it._

_But now that he was in the moment and was staring directly at the potentiality of his own mortality, he couldn't' help but feel scared. Scared for his life. Scared for what might happen to the child in him. Scared for what would happen if the world didn't have him to catch Kira. Would Mello even be able to handle such a task by himself? Would there be any way for Mello to know if anything happened to him?_

_He shivered at all the questions, reaching up to twirl a lock of hair, though his hands had gone numb and was barely able to complete the task; his vision began swimming in and out of focus on the floor tiles._

_It was at this moment when everything flooded him all at once and for the first time it all became too much for him to handle. It was as if his mind suddenly just let go and suddenly he was unable to track what was happening around him. He was still conscious, but it was as if he was experiencing things only in flashes, and almost from an out of body experience._

_It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was happening around him, or why it was happening for that matter. Control was slipping from him and even a mere spider's thread wasn't enough of a tie worthy of pulling him back up into the command of himself._

_Suddenly the doctor was beside him, saying something Near couldn't comprehend. _

_The next moment he was being lowered down till he was staring at the ceiling, unable to force his head to look around to watch the situation unfold. All sounds came in muffled and out of tune. _

_There was a prick in his hand, an IV being attached to him, he figured, though for what he couldn't be sure. Was it for an emergency blood transfusion? Or a desperate attempt to get some morphine into his system? Almost as quickly as the thought had come it had once again slipped from his mind._

_"Do it." He heard himself mutter, though even his own voice was out of tune and he could hardly recognize it. He consciously knew his body was in some state of shock because of it all. His body was unable to handle the stress of trying to figure out how to physically have a child though he wasn't equipped for it, and his mind was run dry on how to handle any of this. His body was forcing him to repress it all, for his own sake, he assumed. It was a defense mechanism, but it scared him._

_If he was in shock and unable to control his own body or mouth properly how would he know if he was dying? How would he know when it was too late, and when he should start giving his final orders? What were his final orders?_

_'Maybe I am dying… maybe this is what it feels like to die. Slowly losing control and any understanding for the world.' He thought to himself just as there was an explosion of pain in his lower mid-section, though it was dulled enough he couldn't pinpoint where exactly. He heard someone scream, but he couldn't tell if it was him or not anymore. Again the thought crossed his mind that perhaps he was losing connection with the world, maybe he was dying. _

_This couldn't be happening to him yet. He found himself panicking; trying to grasp at the spiders thread to get him back to the world._

_He couldn't be dying… Not yet…_

_Words were being said to him, but his mind was too clouded to pick up any of the words. His eyes squeezed closed as the pain continued through him and his body began to unconsciously shake beyond his control. _

_'I don't want to die.' He told himself over and over. 'I'm not ready. I haven't caught Kira to make the world safe. I haven't assured the future of this child. I haven't told Mello…' His throat closed up. 'I'm not ready! Please!'_

_Crying._

_His memory and all control picked back up the moment the sound of an infant's crying reached his ears. His eyes shot open and a deep gasping breath found its way into his lungs, as if he hadn't truly breathed in nine months. The wailing sound continued to fill the room and Near tested out his ability to focus on miniscule details of the ceiling, to prove to himself he was still conscious and in control once more; though he dared not look around the room._

_"Near?" Dr. Smith's voice came through, perfectly clear and in tune now. The new L was still too caught up in the moment to answer him properly, though he wished he could. "Everything went surprisingly perfect. Your son seems perfectly healthy."_

_Near's heart dropped and once more he squeezed his eyes shut. Son… The word reverberated around in his mind over and over. He didn't want to know! He didn't want to know anything about him! He didn't want to see his child! Their child! It wasn't even a child! It was a mistake! He tried to remind himself why he was doing this._

_Knowing meant acknowledging. Acknowledging led to thoughts. Thoughts led to feelings. Feelings led to calculations. Calculations led to dreaming. And dreaming is not a safe thing for a logical brain to do._

_The crying from the child continued in the background. "I can't…" He forced out, keeping himself ignorantly locked away in the darkness behind his eyelids. "I don't…" What was he supposed to say? That he didn't care? That he didn't want to know? That he didn't want to see? That he didn't want to have to see the embodied proof that his parents experiment was fully successful?_

_Or that his and Mello's mistake, just one little miscalculation, had turned out perfect? _

_Perfect, he found his mind suddenly repeating without cause and without reason, yet somehow still infinitely true. Shivers of dopamine ran down his spine as the word sank into the core of his being. The child had turned out perfect, somehow, against all the odds. _

_No. That wasn't right…_

_All his previous thoughts were suddenly mere whispers against the screams of the one simple word. Perfect _

_His brow creased, remembering a long past night where he and Mello were still living within an hidden version of their ideal life, when they had allowed themselves to explore a part of their relationship neither dared to talk about. The night he had talked Mello into trusting him with something so valuable to their continued existence. It was the night Mello finally admitted how much he trusted Near, and gave his trust to him, he remembered._

_He was then flooded by the memory of another night that seemed now as if it had happened centuries ago. A night when he had lay awake in his bed unbeknownst to his blonde partner, who touched his skin and traced lines on him as though Near was the most valuable thing that Mello could ever owned. As if he was the most valuable thing the Earth had to offer. Near had laid there silently and listened to Mello ramble to the moon about what his perfect life would be like. It was the night he had held Near as his only security against the world, swearing away his entire life for that one brief second with Near and for their lives to mean nothing for once. He begged Near to give him a life's meaning and purpose worth fighting for._

_Near took in another deep breath of air and swallowed, allowing his mind to rest for a brief second on the fact that he had fought so hard against for the past nine months. It wasn't something he knew he could realistically let himself dwell on. But he would allow himself only this moment in time._

_Against all the odds Michael had turned out absolutely perfect._

_For the first time in Near's life he allowed himself to freely cry._

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><p>AN: Well, there you have it. The story of Michael's actual birth. What did you think? As I explained earlier, I went through a whole train of emotion about how to do this chapter and literally stopped writing this because I wasn't sure how to correctly handle such a delicate time. So I'd appreciate anything and everything you have to tell me about it. Thanks for putting up with my hiatuses. College, man…

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	14. Touch

A/N: I sat down and thought to myself the other day about what I was going to do with this chapter. I wasn't sure if I wanted another memory, or to just go on with the narrative. In the end, I've decided to give you another memory. So deal with it! … No, but really, I know it might come across as filler, but everything has it's reason, and so does this for me. So, hopefully I've made it a bit enjoyable, and you'll feel the same.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

Chapter 14: Touch

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><p><em>Dull pain.<em>

_Shift. Place a matchstick._

_Sharper pain._

_Shift again. Another matchstick to join the others._

_Give up. Sigh. Let leg fall to dangle off chair next to the other. _

_Near sat at a table in his headquarters, trying desperately to watch all the different news stations play across their dimly illuminated screens stacked high to the ceiling. He couldn't help feeling as useless as the newscasters on the televisions were. All of them were desperately trying to analyze copious amounts of data that none of them understood because, ultimately, none of them really knew anything else worthwhile to broadcast about Kira. And even if they did have anything else, Near figured they'd know better than to be on live television declaring their thoughts and opinions._

_Kira was the shadow lurking in every illuminated newsroom; the lighting as artificial, blinding and carbon copy as the people who arrogantly thought their analyses held any real substance. Kira lay in wait, somewhere, at all times listening and calculating on how to act. These news anchors, so cut and dry were simultaneously enamored by this perfect dream of a news story, and yet constantly pausing over every word to make sure it wasn't too opinionated, yet just raunchy enough to get views. _

_Kira had wormed his way into the minds of every person across the globe. The new generations' Boogieman. The being everyone loved to fear._

_In stark contrast to the overwhelmingly contrived atmosphere in the television studios, Near kept his headquarters dark. The wall of computers displayed at barely above a hushed lighting so he would constantly know that the only darkness surrounding him was only the familiar, waiting shadows of demons from within himself._

_He watched their muted lips move from one of the computer chairs with a tower of matchsticks slowly being constructed on the table top in front of him. In a way, he felt desperate to have these useless pawns' coverage take him away from the silent room around him. The atmosphere here was thick with unspoken words and questions, yet the only way he knew how to quell those was to reaffirm his role as leader of this taskforce. Unfortunately, the only way for him to do that was to lose himself within the therapeutic pools of the case and order his moves be done by them. However, the said pools happened to be quite shallow at the present moment from Kira's current lack of action. _

_He shifted slightly in the chair again, his feet fumbling together on the bars below which held the wheels for the seat. An itch shot through his legs and up into his spine, urging him to again try to lift his leg up close to his body, commanding him like a drug, dictating that if he made this one movement into the familiar position his deductive reasoning ability would surely double._

_He tugged on a lock of white hair, telling himself to ignore such a visceral compulsion; reasoning that there was no logical basis behind the idea that positioning yourself a certain way could ever improve your mental capabilities. Anyone who thought otherwise had to be fools._

_And yet the need was still tugged at him. He shifted uncomfortably once more, adding a matchstick to the growing tower in front of him. It was almost at eye level, now. One stick was added for every time he couldn't sit still, every time he got uncomfortable, every time he let himself give in to the need, even though every instance caused him pain._

_He closed his eyes to block out the physical representation of his inability to control his physical compulsions. The familiar darkness behind his lids allowed the stagnant Kira case to slide back into the forefront of his thoughts. Variables began to fall onto his own mental screen, placing themselves on a dysfunctional sort of timeline that was lined with the events of the case he knew for absolute certainty in red. The events he assumed were Kira but couldn't yet prove one way or the other were placed in blue. Then there was another series of events placed along the line; those were always given the same, consistent color. _

_Gray. _

_Because everything about them was gray. Gray reasons, gray results, gray interpretations. He didn't want those events on his timeline. They muddled every other variable up! Yet there they always were, locked in the background of Near's timeline, still they were the only ones he could ever focus on._

_A surge of pain suddenly shot up Near's body._

_His eyes snapped open suddenly as his body went rigid; his timeline instantly falling back into the depths of his mind. He'd unconsciously lifted his leg up onto his seat, pulling it as close to his abdomen as he possibly could. The action pulled uncomfortably at the fresh stitches in his lower abdomen till it sent a warning pain throughout his body. _

_He cringed a bit at the feeling, trying still to keep the air of stoicism about him. It'd been a week since Michael had been born. … Since the child had been born. His body wasn't evolutionally prepared to birth a child and it had taken more of a toll on him physically than he had originally assumed it would. He'd been left weaker than usual after the birth, and had been instructed not to return to the investigation for a couple weeks; till his body readjusted itself back to normal. _

_However, there was a killer on the loose and Near felt he'd already spent too much time away from his team and the investigation. In the back of his mind he'd told himself that if this child hadn't happened, perhaps he could have already solved the Kira case. He couldn't sit and wait another two weeks._

_He grit his teeth, frustrated that his body couldn't keep up with what his mind dictated for it do. At once, he pushed over the matchstick tower in front of him; then turned to Lidner who had been quietly tipping away at a computer to his right. "Get Rester."_

_"Sir." She responded, the tips getting louder for a moment before an intercom connection was established. _

_"Sir?" Came his second in command's voice through a set of speakers set up throughout the room. Near pushed himself forward a bit to grab at the destroyed matchstick tower, cringing momentarily but not giving in to the physical toll. _

_"Rester, I need you to go investigate into something for me." He instructed vaguely, honestly just needing to test out his levels of leadership again._

_Rester hesitated a moment. "But sir, I…" His voice trailed off._

_Near stopped momentarily, gazing down at the pile of sticks with narrowed grey eyes. If things had been up to Near he would have taken him, it, their mistake, to Wammy's immediately after having him. But apparently it was too much of a risk and Dr. Smith had advised against it, explaining about the dangers of infections to newborns, not to mention the toll of travel on Near. _

_So they'd decided to wait. The burden of taking care of the child had been placed on Rester, for no other reason than he was the only other person who knew anything about the situation, thus was the only one Near felt he could trust. But now this mistake was cutting into Near's job once again, and the more he did, the more Near felt himself holding it against the child._

_He grabbed a single match between his index finger and thumb, pressing on it until it snapped between the two. He glared at the splintered wood, "Fine. Then there's a change of plans. I need you to organize that trip we spoke of, ideally for as soon as possible."_

_"But I-"_

_"You have your orders." He was tired of dealing with this. Michael was keeping him from his responsibilities, and despite it being partly his own fault, somehow it just wasn't acceptable to him. He kept telling himself that ridding himself of the mistake would make his world go back to normal._

_He heard Rester sigh on the other end. "I understand. But, if you could come take over for me?"_

_Near looked up, feeling the confused gazes from Gevanni and Lidner on him, but he dared not give them any look. Gritting his teeth he finally looked back down at the mess on the table, feeling it was a relatively decent representation of his mindset. "Fine." He wanted to add a snide comment about if Rester couldn't do his job, no matter what was asked, then he shouldn't be on this task force. In the end, though, Near merely pushed himself away from the desk and stood up, trying to ignore the pain it sent through his body. He knew any further retort he could've made towards Rester would only be the result of frustration of the situation, not necessarily with the man himself._

-:-

_Reaching one of the lower floors where the child was being kept until they could leave for England, Near instantly felt his level of apprehension raise, a lump growing in his throat. He hadn't had much contact with Michael since he was born, let alone being by himself with the child. Anything of the sort was the last thing that he wanted, but he didn't have much else of a choice at the moment. _

_Before he could push open the door to the room the infant was being watched in, it instead was opened and Rester stepped out, stopping him in his tracks. The elder man coughed a moment, awkwardly, "Sorry, sir. He's sleeping now so there's not much to really be done."_

_Near nodded, "it's fine." He lied, twirling a lock of hair and looking to the side. "We need to get this done anyway. As I said, the sooner the better."_

_Rester nodded, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?" He asked, something in his voice showing a bit of reservation about just dropping off such a young infant at some orphanage he personally knew nothing about. _

_Near exhaled, figuring Rester had probably developed a sort of bond with Michael over the course of time he'd been watching him. It was only natural, he told himself. Babies were, evolutionarily, meant to be cute so adults didn't just leave them somewhere to die. Adults were evolutionarily designed to create bonds, so as to create ties in order to keep their kin safe. _

_"Of course." Was the only answer he offered the elder gentleman. Though it might not make sense to Rester, Near had spent nine months telling himself over and over again why giving the child to Wammy's was the only realistic option he had. Nothing else made sense. The child would never thrive here, with him. And while Wammy's wasn't exactly the most fruitful place for a child to really thrive, it wasn't as if Mello could really be trusted with such a task, even if he did know what was happening._

_Rester simply nodded in response, then moving around him to go off, pulling out his phone to begin making calls. As Near watched him go, he had to hand it to him, Rester did his job very well, all things considered. He did whatever Near asked him to do while constantly understanding when it was right to ask questions and when it wasn't. He wasn't brainless, but he didn't pry too much into Near's schemes either. It was a nice balance, overall._

_He entered into the cool, single room, looking around. The view was out onto the mid-day city, the bustle of the people could be seen from the room, yet at the same time it was distant enough away to keep the room still feeling calm and separate from the rest of the world. The room had been set up with all the basic necessity furniture for taking care of an infant -the crib, the changing table, and all the extras. Near couldn't help wondering what would happen to all the stuff when the child was gone. He shook his head, however, seeing as it wasn't ultimately any of his concern._

_Grey eyes locked on the crib at the side of the room, feeling his heart raising into his throat the longer he stared at it. What exactly was he supposed to do? He didn't know how to take care of a child. He remembered, years ago, observing and logging the workers at Wammy's taking care of all the younger children, but he'd never witnessed them take care of one this young. If they didn't do it, then how was he supposed to?_

_He told himself to just ignore this entire situation all together -to go watch the people below them go about their day and try to keep focused on only the work. The work was what mattered, after all. But even as he stepped closer to the large windows, his heart tugged him over to the crib. His heart told him that he could afford to spare just one look, just to make sure everything was fine, to make sure Michael was, indeed, still there and breathing._

_His conscience told him it was a terrible idea. That the more he interacted with Michael, the harder it was going to be later. But how could he just shut it all away so easily? If he could give in to the physical desire to sit a certain way, then why couldn't he give in, just once, to his hearts yearning to know what his own child looked like? It felt like a tragedy of nature to not even know what one's own child looked like after having grown him for nine months._

_He crept his way over to the crib, facing away and keeping his eyes shut as his hands reached out and touched the cold wood of the crib walls. His heart raced in his chest. His lungs were quickly forgetting how to breath. His mind screamed that this was a terrible mistake, and that if he did this he'd regret it for the rest of his life._

_But the heart wants what the heart wants, as they say._

_Before he could stop himself, he found himself reaching inside, slowly and deliberately, yet still unable to open his eyes. His fingers searched around the empty area until suddenly everything stopped and he felt something warm on his fingertips. A tiny hand, closed up into a fist. _

_In that one moment his racing heart ceased all movement. His lungs pushed out all the air he'd been holding. For the first time in almost nine months his mind stopped thinking and calculating._

_He traced the warmth of Michael's tiny hand up, feeling all the soft curves of his arms then moving up to his head; his fingers coming into contact with a head of soft hair. He found himself chuckling momentarily as he caught himself wondering how strange it was for his son to have been born with a crown full of hair, but then instantly remembering who Michael's father was. _

_His fingers brushed at the incredibly fine locks of hair for a brief moment, almost desperate to twirl the strands of hair between his larger fingers. He couldn't help the pull on his heart that insisted for him to find out what color hair Michael had. He knew if he only peeked a moment, he'd have the answer to his question. He told himself that if he gave his own son one moment's gaze, he could rest easy after they give him away knowing what his son looked like. _

_But he fought the need back, reaffirming to himself that his heart was wrong. That, in fact, he would suffer much more if he had to give Michael up yet always had an image of him burned into his mind._

_Perhaps even this simple action was too much…_

_Suddenly a small whimper cut through the silence of the room, growing louder by the second. Near's heart fell as he tugged his hand away from the once sleeping child, wondering momentarily if somehow his actions had woke him up. _

_'What do I do?' He asked himself, searching his brain. Feeding. Changing. Playing. Everything sensible came to the forefront of this mind, but these options were all point Z's, and Near was currently situated at point A without a clue how to get anywhere even close to the endpoint. _

_But still Michael was fussing loudly, and the more he did the more it pulled and hurt Near's heart to hear it. He squeezed his eyes further closed, trying to force anything to appear in his head to help him figure out what to do, and even for the briefest of moments considering calling Rester and having him come take care of this. Words couldn't explain how useless he felt listening to his child complain and having no idea what he was supposed to do about it to fix Michael's suddenly broken world. _

_In an instant, though, when he forced himself to just stop for a moment, and for his brain to shut down and let his body, his heart, take over, he found himself leaning more down into the crib again, his hand quickly remembering it's way to Michael and tracing the lines of the boys soft face, his tiny nose, his chubby cheeks, then placing the side of his finger at the baby's mouth. _

_Immediately Michael's cries stopped and a soft sucking sensation met the nerves of Near's finger. After a moment he felt the child's tiny hands reach and grab his own hand. While they lacked the strength to keep his hand there, it seemed enough for them to blindly grab at him._

_Near exhaled, a small smile crossing his face. 'You just want attention.' He said. 'You just want to feel someone's there.' His heart clenched in his chest, feeling as though Michael really just wanted to know Near was actually there for him. It almost broke his heart feeling that what this helpless infant wanted more than anything right now wasn't any sort of necessity needed to keep him alive. He just wanted the feeling that someone was there, watching over him and loving him._

_In that moment Near had never felt like so much of a failure in all his life. _

_And even right then he couldn't find the strength within himself to open his eyes and look down at the little being he'd created. They'd created. This little being laying there who already had a bigger heart than Near did. _

_"Maybe you get it from Mello." He whispered to him. "It's probably better that way, anyway. You don't know him, and maybe you never will, but your dad is always controlled by his heart, not his mind. He does things because he feels they're right, not because he knows they're right. Hopefully you get some of that…" He sighed, "Mello is a lot better of a person for you to look up to than I am."_

_He exhaled heavily, "As much as I hate to say it, I hope you get to meet your dad someday…"_

_He paused for a moment, letting himself enjoy this one brief moment where he would get to develop any sort of bond with his son before having to give him away for what, potentially, could be the rest of his life. He tried not to dwell on the idea that Michael could grow up never knowing that he and Mello even exist; the very thought of it pulled his heartstrings in ways he'd never experienced before._

_In that moment, behind those closed lids in the darkness of shadows he'd built for himself, he envisioned the ideal life for this little human he'd held inside him with such discontent for nine months. The visions raced across his sights, but he couldn't even begin to put any of it into words. He told himself that if he never got a chance to see Michael himself, he'd spend his life figuring out how to explain all these ideals to him._

_He envisioned Michael growing up knowing who Mello and himself were. Not by their competition, nor their hatred, but by their dynamic and their relationship -whatever that was. He wanted Michael to know how hard they'd strived, and how they'd fought, both against each other and together. He wanted him to know just how much Mello had deserved this position as he had; how Mello didn't deserve to be forgotten by that institution just because he was second best. _

_Mostly, though, he wanted his son to know how much Mello had loved Michael before he even knew Near was carrying him. _

_He wanted him to know that life was cruel, that it never really gave you the cards you needed, or the ones you necessarily wanted. That that had been the case for him and Mello, but they had worked with what they had. And even though neither of them had asked for Michael to exist, or for him to mess up Near's plans, he wanted him to know that now there would always be a light within his shadows where only Michael would reside -constantly lighting his way against the demons._

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><p>AN: Well… there you go. Though, somehow that just doesn't feel right to me. Something feels off about that ending, but you know what, I'll just go with it. So, as I said, hopefully it doesn't come across too filler-y for you. Next chapter goes back to present time. And, assumingly, now everyone has a new perspective on Near and his outlook on this whole experience! You know, it's quite interesting to read (well, for me to write it) and then go back and read the first few chapters of this fic. It feels almost completely different, now that Near's been fleshed out. So, yeah, let me know what you think! I'd appreciate your opinions.

Please review  
>-<em>Forbiddensoul562<em>


	15. Henry

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Unless you don't celebrate Christmas, in which case happy holidays! Anyway, on my Tumblr I promised everyone a Christmas gift this year, and this is it. Well… this, and Ghosts and Shadows update as well, but mainly this! Because this one is actually holiday themed, and the other isn't. So, there you go. Hope everyone has a great day and please leave me a nice gift this year of letting me know your thoughts.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story, except Michael.

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><p><span>Chapter 15:<span> Henry

It hadn't seemed real when Mello had impulsively told Near that he, too, would be moving to Japan in order to better pursue Kira. It originally felt like just another thing he spouted off to make himself feel as though he wasn't falling behind to Near in their race. It wasn't until later that the reality of his words and the magnitude of them struck, and he realized he had no choice but to follow through.

Yet he knew that with that promise came overwhelming amounts of change.

Not only was he relocating himself around the globe. But Michael, as well. It seemed as though the young boy had just started getting used to living in their little rundown apartment in New York, and now suddenly Mello was picking them all up and moving them across yet another ocean, to a country where Michael would be much more isolated from the outside with the new added language barrier.

The blonde looked down to where his son sat on the carpet of the New York airport, playing with the few toys he'd dragged out. Michael's carry-on bag was filled solely with the toys Near had given him; all of them having quickly become his prized possessions in the few days since Mello had given them to him.

As he watched Michael drive the cars around the floor, weaving in and around little plastic robots and action figures, a part of him couldn't help feeling a bit jealous. Near had abandoned Michael at birth, and although Mello realized that his reasons had, more or less, been laced with underlying and misguided concern and affection for the boy, he was still a bit bothered by the idea that his son was so ready to cherish anything Near gave him.

He sighed, passing it off as childhood ignorance, turning away to instead gaze around disinterestedly at all the people in the terminal who were waiting for their different planes to take them to every corner of the globe. Airports were always decidedly interesting, to him. If you study everyone close enough, usually you can discern where each person is heading, and for what purpose, based off discerning characteristics such as how they're dressed, what size luggage they're wheeling with them, if they have any extra bags, what they do while they're waiting.

However, this time around, there wasn't much of a challenge in reading these passengers.

December. Nearing late December, at that. Most, if not all, of these people were travelling for Christmas and New Years.

Mello swallowed, turning to instead look out the large window that showed the snowy tarmac just beyond the glass, where multiple planes were being serviced fueled while they waited for their passengers to board. A pang of guilt grew in him as he thought of the generally festive holiday. Christmas was always supposed to be a time for family and friends to spend together; though that was something which no one he knew had ever really had.

When he looked back on it, Christmas at Wammy's had always been so contrived. Roger and the other staff members always made the place seem warm and cheery, and decorated every wall with something holiday themed. All of the orphans would write letters to Santa telling him exactly what they wanted their one Christmas present to be that year.

While it all seemed reasonable at a young age, as Mello got older her started seeing through the deception, and as a result he became more and more bitter about the holiday. All the festivities were catered to the children, to make them believe in a moment's joy and magic. But it was a lie. All of it was a rouse to cover up the real agenda happening behind the scenes, and at the time Mello just couldn't live with being lied to so blatantly.

Because at the end of the day, there was no Santa, for the children of Wammy's. L was their Santa. They asked, and L made sure they received. Everything was perfectly constructed so that L became, to be the orphans, their bread, butter, caregiver, and god.

But Mello didn't want that for Michael. He wanted Michael to actually _believe_ in the magic of Christmas for a while, and to grow up enjoying it instead of looking down on those who did, the way he had.

"Don't make too big of a mess, Michael." Mello told his son to bring himself out of his own thoughts. "Hopefully it won't be too long before we have to board the plane." He finished with a heavy exhale.

However, there came no response from Michael. Contrarily, as if in his own formal protest of Mello's demands he reached into his little bag and brought out another action figure, positioning it up against his favorite blue car.

Mello's blue eyes narrowed on him. "Michael."

"Do we really have to go to Japan, Daddy? I like where we live _now_." Michael finally said, still not looking at his father, instead driving his car into the action figure, then pulling it back and repeating the process.

The blonde paused as the boys words didn't help his feeling of guilt, "Yes, we do." Past that, he wasn't sure what to tell the young boy at his feet that might make him feel better. He could barely justify the action it to himself, let alone the four year old child in front of him. Going to Japan to face off against both Kira and Near was putting all three of them in the line of danger and he consciously recognized that that was probably not the best course of action.

What it logically came down to was that he didn't have a reason for why he was willing to risk all of their lives just to say he beat Near in the end. Nor did he even want to consider what he might have to sacrifice in order to get that victory. What if he came out victorious but Near was lost in the process somehow? Michael would never forgive him… He forced the thoughts away, instead telling himself that this battle had been waging for far too long for him to just back out now. "It's just for work. After that, we can move back, if you want."

He watched Michael purse his lips in contemplation as he stopped playing with his toys. His eyes looked up to one of the TVs that was playing above them for the other waiting passengers to have something to watch, though not many seemed genuinely interested in paying attention. It was a news report regarding Kira being broadcast, same news as was shown every.

"Are you doing Kira work?" Michael finally asked.

Mello stiffened at the honest words of his son, looking around at all the people who looked up from their reading and general boredom; even Matt, beside him, looked up momentarily from his game, wondering what Mello was going to say. Suddenly it felt like the entire terminal was judging him.

He tried not to pay any of them any notice, knowing it would just set him in a bad mood to be able to read every judgmental thought these bystanders were placing on him. "Put your toys up. Let's go walk around."

Michael huffed, but did as he was told and replaced all his toys back in his bag where they'd started at, then stood up. Mello followed suit, but instantly picked Michael up into his arms to protect him from the numbers of people swiftly moving one way and another around the terminal, completely blind to everything but their own travel situation. The last thing Mello wanted right now was a standoff with someone random because they were too caught up to see Michael there and tripped over him. "We'll be back." He called to Matt who had gone back to the game he'd been absorbed in for hours. He gave a brief nod as he chewed fervently on the end of a pen to try and curb his craving to smoke.

Mello didn't have an actual destination in mind, what he really wanted was to be away from all these people and to spend some time with Michael, though unfortunately it didn't seem like the former desire was going to happen with the sheer number of travelers around.

He finally responded to Michael's question, "Yes, Michael, that's why we're going to Japan." He said, trying to be subtle with the response. Considering the large numbers of people and the amount of tension he could feel in the air from everyone's resigned and variable opinions on Kira, he didn't want to give them an excuse to start airing their opinions to the world.

"But," He added, "You can't talk about it, alright? What Near and I do is a secret."

Michael watched Mello for a long moment, confusion evident on his innocent face before he finally spoke, "When I lived at Wammy's, they told me that Kira was a bad guy, and that L was fighting Kira. Somea the other kids told me that Kira was gonna beat L and that I'd have to become L next! Is that true?"

Mello couldn't help laughing, "If you want to, and if you study very hard, then you could be L someday. The beauty, Michael, is that you can chose whatever you want to be, now. You don't have to do whatever Wammy's decides." He explained, hugging Michael tighter and leaning down into the soft locks of his pale blonde hair, feeling as though the closer he was to his son the better he could protect him from all the hardships he knew existed out there, just waiting to bite at him.

"You know what else they used to tell me, Daddy?" Michael continued, pushing away from Mello just far enough to be able to look at him, his grey eyes sparkling with childhood naiveté. "They used to say that everyone had fake names, because Kira can get you if he has your name!"

"Yeah, that's true."

"But I was just M! And now I don't use a fake name!" He pulled on Mello's jacket expectantly, "is Kira gonna get me?" He asked in a hushed tone.

Mello chuckled, "No, Michael, he's not going to get you. Kira only goes after bad people." Instantly he regretted his words, knowing Michael's train of thought.

"Then why do you and my Mama not use your real names? Does that make you the bad people?"

He sighed, "No, Michael, we're the good people. It's really complicated, but don't worry about it. Kira will never come after you. You know your mother and I would never let anything happen to you." The more he thought about it and answered Michael's questions the more he found himself wondering why exactly he let himself get in these conversations with his son. Every time he did he felt like he was just digging himself a larger hole, rather than actually alleviating the confusion the boy had.

Michael cut into Mello's thoughts before he could get too away from himself. "Can we get somethin' to eat? I'm hungry, Daddy."

Mello chuckled, "Yeah, good idea. It's going to be a long trip, and plane food is never that good." He explained, beginning to look around for somewhere to get something to eat.

-:-

Mello sat with Michael at a simple plastic table watching people come and go around them, the older blonde again found himself becoming lost in his thoughts as he watched the people with both their travel suitcases dragging with them as well as extra bags filled with gifts for their family and friends. This time of year naturally brought such a homely feeling to most people, and yet here they all were… chasing a mass murderer, unable to stop for one holiday break.

He knew what Near would say if he ever heard Mello's thoughts, _'Murderers don't stop just because it's Christmas, so neither do detectives.'_

He shook his head, looking over at Michael who was eating his meal of cheeseburger and fries while watching everyone walk around. The look in his eyes was content as could be and for a brief moment Mello no longer felt guilty over the decision he was making for them. Michael hadn't had a family for the first years of his life, so having one now was probably the best present he could ever ask for Christmas. He remembered all the orphans at Wammy's who always asked for parents for Christmas, every year, and yet every year were always let down. Maybe Michael had been one of those kids, and had finally gotten his wish.

Still, that wasn't enough for Mello. Michael deserved more than that from him.

"What do you want for Christmas, Michael?" He asked, leaning on his elbows on the table to give Michael his full attention.

Michael's chewing came to a sudden stop as he looked at his dad, equally as surprised as he was confused. "What do I want?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Mello scolded.

Michael swallowed, then shrugged, "I dunno. Will Santa even be able to find me now that I'm not at Wammy's House? We used to only get one toy from Santa every year, 'cause there are a lot of kids in the world, so we have to share." He explained, rubbing his nose on the sleeve of his shirt.

Mello gave a small smile, unsure if it was nostalgia to when he was a kid and they had given him the same explanation when he would complain about only getting one present, or if it was another silent thanks that Michael wasn't having to deal with that again. "Santa finds all the children on Christmas to bring them their presents, no matter where they've moved to. But only if they've been good."

Michael shuffled to the edge of his seat, his eyes getting bigger, "I'm always good! And I've been good this year, too! I wait for my Mama to see me and I don't complain, and I don't even cheat when I play games with Uncle Matt anymore either!"

"Hm… that is pretty good." Mello told him. "I think Santa will be impressed. He may even bring you more than one present this year."

To this Michael shook his head as he swung his legs in his seat, still as content as ever. "I don't need more than one present. He should give them to other kids in the world who need them more! Like the rest of the kids at Wammy's, 'cause they still don't have families."

"That's thoughtful of you, Michael." Mello told him, proud of the small boy's selflessness, albeit convinced that if 'Santa' got Michael more than one present for Christmas, the boy's attitude would probably change pretty fast. Especially if he had any of Mello's genes in him. An idea suddenly struck him.

He stood up from the table, "let's go shop around a bit."

Michael's eyes followed him, confused, "What?"

"Well… It's the first Christmas I've spent with you. So, I'm going to get you something, even if it is a bit early. That way you'll at least have two presents this year. One from Santa, and one from me." He couldn't help criticizing himself about it, though, adding that the gift also wouldn't be picked out by him, or wrapped… or under a tree… but he shook all the insecurities off, telling himself that this was just one step in the right direction. This was just their first Christmas together, and he was making an attempt, and so long as he kept making more attempts every year, and it got closer and closer to what his fantasy idea that Michael's Christmas _should_ be, then that's what mattered.

Michael's eyes lit up and he instantly abandoned the rest of his food, piling it up together to throw away then letting Mello pick him up again, "do I really get it early?" He asked hopefully.

"Well, if you don't want it early…"

"I do!" Michael squirmed in Mello's grip, impatient. "What are you gonna get me?"

Mello shrugged, "I'll let you pick something out."

"Can I get a toy?"

"Whatever you want." He told him, noting that the entire gesture somehow sounded a bit more impersonal when he said it then he meant it to come across. Though, as he watched Michael look around, unable to sit still he knew it didn't matter to the boy. Christmas was Christmas, and a present was a present, even if he picked it out for himself. Especially to a previously orphaned boy who would've never had anything like this sort of privilege before now.

With the idea decided, they were off in search of Michael's perfect Christmas present. However, the idea became less and less practical the longer it took Mello to find anywhere he deemed acceptable to let Michael roam around in to search for a gift. The airport was filled to the brim with restaurants and places to buy magazines and travel supplies, but for some reason children seemed to be an afterthought in the airport commercialized business. It was a shame, he mused to himself, figuring that having a place to purchase even a limited section of toys for children would be perfect, considering how unreasonably bored children tend to get on planes and while waiting.

However, after wandering around for a while he finally found a small shop set within the corner of one of the other terminals. While most of it offered small packages of snacks and other food designed for people who would be waiting a long while for their next plane, he did spot a section of it which had a decent selection of toys, considering their location.

He placed Michael on the ground at the entrance of the little outlet shop. Michael looked up at him, a bit hesitant now, "Go on." Mello told him. "I told you, whatever you want." He watched Michael swallow a moment, but then nod and head off towards the designated section that instantly held his interest.

Mello hung back at the end of the short aisle, looking along the low shelves at all the different toys and wondering what Michael would pick. Examining boxes of different action figures, though, he figured it'd be something like what Near had already given him, or at least some form of reasonably logical choice to make his little imaginary world complete.

What he wasn't expecting, was when Michael suddenly called him over. "Daddy! I want this!" Came the small, excited voice from down the aisle. Surprised at the speed at which it had taken Michael to chose, Mello headed over, his blue eyes falling onto the toy Michael had chosen.

Between the child's two little hands was a light brown, fluffy teddy bear with a navy blue bow tied around its neck and pristine black sewing for eyes, nose, and mouth. Mello's look turned to confusion. "You want a stuffed bear?"

Michael nodded, pulling the bear close to him in a hug, shooting his dad a small glare, "yeah! He was all alone on this shelf!" He explained. "Nobody wanted him, just like nobody wanted me!"

Mello frowned, taken aback, "I want you."

"And I want Henry."

"Henry?"

Michael pulled the bear out of the embrace to look him over once more, a big smile across his face, "His name is Henry."

"Why Henry?"

To this, Michael looked back at Mello and gave him another glare, "Because he's Henry, Daddy. Henry can't be named anything other than Henry, or he wouldn't be Henry." He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and was insulted by the very idea that it wasn't clear to Mello.

The elder blonde sighed, but nodded. He had told Michael anything he wanted, and if it was Henry the bear that Michael wanted, then that's what Mello would get for him. "Alright, then Henry it is." He said, leading Michael up to the counter and paying for the stuffed bear, much to the interest of the cashier who gave both Mello and Michael confused and somewhat wary looks. Though she dropped it when Mello shot her his own discerning frown. Suddenly Michael's selection didn't matter to him at all. How dare this woman even think to question his son's desire to have a stuffed bear over all the other options.

He picked Michael up, who was still holding Henry, and headed back to their own terminal. "Thank you, Daddy." Michael said, giving Mello a quick kiss on the cheek before going back to giving Henry all his attention.

Mello just gave him a smile, "anything for you, Michael. Merry Christmas."

* * *

><p>AN: Yes, more filler. Christmas flavored filler. You're welcome. Ending this story is proving to be just as difficult for me as it is going to be for all of you, I'm sure. But yeah I wanted a bit of a sweet moment with Mello and Michael, and now little Henry. So, there's your gift from me this year. Hopefully you enjoyed it, and next chapter will be back to plot, I promise. Be sure to let me know what you think, if you could.

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	16. Betrayal

A/N: So, before I begin I just want to thank anyone who read this who also reads Ghosts and Shadows who reviewed the last chapter. I'll do my sappy note in the next chapter of that, but I just wanted to take this moment to say that you're all amazing and never let me down! … Oh, and I should probably say that next chapter is officially the last chapter (but there is an epilogue, so there's that, too! and maybe more too but it all depends on reactions...) I worked hella hard to make sure this chapter came out as perfect as I could get it, since this entire story has kind of been leading up to this flashback so… please let me know your thoughts!

Warning!: (Kind of!) I'm not claiming to keep this chapter canon with what happened in either canons of the story as to how Mello figures out the need to kidnap Takada! So... I don't want to hear "that's not what happened!" Because I know. I am extremely lazy. (And have been working on this chapter for about 9 hours consecutively.) So cut me some slack please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael.

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16:<span> Betrayal

_It was unreasonable. This feeling was completely ludicrous, nonsensical and utterly illogical. Yet, no matter what Mello did and no matter how many belittling adjectives he placed atop his shoulders, the feeling persisted in his center, seeming to only intensify as the clock ticked away time._

_Mello was nervous; that was the simplest way to put it. He'd tried expelling the feeling any way he could, mentally justifying how irrational it was, indulging in numerous bars of chocolate, and anything else he could think to help, because this looming sense of nerves which had taken up residence within him just didn't make sense! How could he be nervous? Mello didn't get nervous about anything! _

… _Okay, so he got nervous about a couple of things. But this instance shouldn't ever constitute being one of those times._

_Yet, that gnawing sensation was still there. It turned his insides into a ball of nausea which made the blonde reconsider the decision to eat all of those chocolate bars before leaving his apartment in a last ditch effort to clear his mind._

_It'd been a long time since Mello had seen Matt, the one true best friend he had in the world. A part of him was excited to reclaim that old dynamic of their friendship, but another part of him was almost worried, too. Now that Mello was there to pick his friend up in order to bring him onto his investigation, the eldest successor couldn't think of any plausible excuse for letting so many years pass between them without even the simplest attempt at communication being extended._

_Leaning against a wall of the New York airport he suddenly became aware of numerous eyes from the innocent passer-byers and standing bystanders scrutinizing him, judging him by his appearance and the few subtle actions he made. Their looks said that Mello didn't belong out of the underground world he'd willingly entrenched himself in. Though he didn't deny the validity of their judgments, it didn't help the inner feeling of unease that churned within the pit of his stomach._

"_Mello!" A voice cut through the otherwise unrelenting drone of human blathering._

_Immediately the said blonde looked up; blue eyes fell onto his familiar redhead best friend who walked towards him; at once all his apprehension fell away, entirely abandoned for the more comfortable sensation of an lonesome emptiness suddenly being filled within him._

_Matt hadn't changed since their days at Wammy's House, his radiating, outward nature was still jovial, and he still wore the same orange goggles on his head. Though, as Mello looked him over in greater detail, he did realize that the gamer did seem somewhat taller than Mello remembered him being at the orphanage._

"_It's about time." Mello commented, unable to fight the smile on his face as his childhood best friend walked towards him; readjusting the lone bag he carried over his shoulder._

"_Speak for yourself, Mels, it's been years since I've heard from you! Everyone back home thought you'd died or something." Mello grimaced at the use of the word 'home' in reference to that place, but let it go without a second thought. He and Matt had had remarkably different experiences with that institution._

"_You really think I'd let something like that happen? There's just been a lot going on since I left."_

"_Yeah, obviously, what happened to your face?" Matt asked, remaining true to his nature of getting straight to the point as he motioned to the left side of his own face._

_Mello's teeth grit tightly together, trying to keep himself from looking away from his friend or getting frustrated at either Matt or himself. As if he wasn't already suffering enough with all these people staring at him, Matt just had to keep adding things on top of the already uncomfortable feeling he harbored. "It's a long story." He responded vaguely, pushing himself off the wall to begin towards the terminal exit._

"_Plans didn't go so well?" Matt suspected. The gamer had always been good at reading the blonde; his observational skills being practically second to none that Mello had ever seen. It was a quality which he'd had always strangely enjoyed about Matt; it was something the blonde didn't let get under his skin like the same feature might if it were on anyone else._

_The redhead always knew how to read him, or any situation they got themselves into, but unlike anyone else Mello had seen with such a level of ability, Matt didn't ever let it go to his head and control him. He just sat back and let it work for him when it needed it and otherwise channeled it into his gaming. Maybe that was just how extraordinary features like that were supposed to be handled by normal people who didn't have to fight to keep everything they had, and everything they wanted._

_Mello exhaled, a sanguine wave of sudden ease rushing over him, the likes of which he hadn't felt in years. At once the sensation seemed to prompt the raging seas within him to subside for the first time in four years. _

_Mello bit back the painful thought that came with letting his mind rest on how tumultuous his mind had become when left on its own, "it's not important."_

_The scoff he received said Matt understood that the ambiguous answer should be read as a 'yes', that it afforded Mello the ability to admit it without simultaneously having to lower his pride to such an explicit level._

"_We have bigger issues to deal with, now." Mello explained, shifting the conversation subject as they made it to his car while the blonde successor readied himself to tell Matt about all the circumstances that'd occurred since he had left Wammy's House, so as to catch him up on the status of the Kira case and the work he'd done._

_As he slipped into the car he consciously reminded himself to cut out all the fine details about the innumerable nights that he'd spent at Near's headquarters throughout that same span of time. He reminded himself that it wasn't relevant to note on how something had changed and perhaps even grown between the two of them, or about how Near had, without warning, calmly shut him out again entirely._

_He'd been a fool for thinking he could rely on Near for anything more than a good competition, but Near had been the one who was utterly heartless for letting Mello plummet to such a degree._

_But what hurt the most about it all, what made Mello grimace with complete disgust was the way he still waited. It had become only ever so often, now, but there were times, late into the night, where he'd find his heart beating slower, as if it and all of time were coming to a gradual stop by waiting and wishing for his phone to ring. _

_He hated himself for still, after all this time of perpetual silence, wanting to go back to those times and all those nights with Near when nothing else had mattered._

_Mello's fingers clenched around the steering wheel, replacing all of those feelings back within the glass box he'd carefully constructed around them as a means to keep him safe. Or perhaps to keep them safe._

-:-

_The frigid, city-center apartment felt better with Matt in it. Somehow his presence seemed to instantly melt away the stifling sense of ice and imprisonment which had consumed the space while Mello had been there by himself. _

_But the place was now beginning to be brought to a sort of technological sentience through the multiple computers and apparently endless amounts of wires Matt had brought with him. Each piece of technology was perfectly designed for continuing the Kira investigation, and playing Matt's video games at the same time, Mello thought to himself with an eye roll._

_Multi-tasking was just Matt's way; it always had been, and so long as Mello was the one to catch Kira he didn't care what the redhead did to get them to that point._

"_It feels good finally being out of there." Matt said, breaking the comfortable silence that'd inadvertently fallen between them. _

"_You could have left too, you know." Mello chided, pacing around the room as he watched Matt bring the space to his own conceptualization of life._

"_And go where?" Matt eyed him curiously from behind his orange lenses, a cigarette precariously hanging from between his lips. "You didn't exactly say where you were going when you left, and it's not like I had anywhere else to go." He shrugged, "besides, if I stayed at Wammy's, at least there I had a shot at becoming L."_

_Mello scoffed loudly at the notion, falling into one of the arm chairs and ripping the foil off of a new bar of chocolate, "Yeah, you become L. I would pay to see that, Matt."_

"_Can you imagine, though?" Matt joked, "Me? Acting as L? As if Roger or Wammy himself would ever want the likes of me with that sort of power. The world would probably fall." _

_They both laughed at the thought of Matt suddenly coming into possession of so much power, momentarily lapsing back into silence until Matt broke it once more, "The place hasn't changed at all, Mels. I swear it still looks exactly like when we were all kids."_

"_With Roger running the place that doesn't surprise me too much." Mello said as he took a bite of his chocolate bar, "It's not like he was ever a big advocate of change."_

"_Yeah, I guess. But still, you have to admit that's a whole new level of being stuck in the past. You'd think they'd do a little something, I don't know, paint the walls at least! No, it all has to stay the same way it's always been." Matt paused, looking up a moment as he considered his own notion, "Though, I guess at some level that sort of consistency is good for orphaned kids…"_

_The gamer's ramblings trailed off, but almost immediately he abandoned the work he'd been doing on one of the computers, instead pushing his goggles up onto his forehead; suggesting a sudden change in his mindset as his green eyes found Mello's. "Oh, hey, speaking of orphans I meant to ask you about that."_

_Mello shot him a puzzled look, "Ask me about what?" He wondered as his mind quickly calculated out all the possible questions that could come from the base subject of orphans. There weren't that many, and of those there were even fewer that Mello was willing to talk about with Matt._

"_I want to know why you abandoned your son at Wammy's. I've known you for a long time, Mels, and I would have never thought you'd be capable-."_

_Mello cut him off as his brow creased together, completely abandoning the chocolate bar that'd been in his hand, "wait a second, what did you just say?"_

_Matt met him with an equally confused look, "Your son? He's at Wammy's?"_

"_I don't have a son, Matt. What're you talking about?" _

_Matt paused momentarily to look his best friend over, gauging his confusion and quickly trying to decide where to go from here with the course of events he'd now set into motion. "I mean, I don't really know the details," he said slowly, each word being deliberately chosen, "but maybe about three or four years ago Near showed up at Wammy's with some baby. I still have Roger's office rigged up with cameras and microphones from when he were younger, remember? I didn't catch all of it at the time, but I did hear enough to get that the kid was being left there permanently, and Near said you were the father." He shrugged at the end, watching every one of Mello's subtly changing actions carefully for any precursory sign of whatever reaction was to follow his explanation._

_Mello's head ticked to the side momentarily, letting Matt's words digest in his system. "Near was at Wammy's?"_

"_That what I said."_

"_And he… left a baby there saying it was mine?"_

_Matt hesitated, carefully observing the rising tension around Mello's person. "Well yeah. I wouldn't have even considered it as true if it hadn't been Near there. You know how he is; he doesn't exactly lie. Not to mention I thought it was a bit strange that it was him he showed up there. I mean, you'd think if it's your kid, then you'd be the one there." He shrugged again, "I suppose it might've made sense if you'd gotten killed, but even back then that just didn't seem like a plausible possibility."_

_Mello bit his tongue to keep from asserting how Near did indeed lie to people, but whenever he did, he was careful to always manipulate the situation so as to make it nearly impossible for anyone to catch him in it. Right now, though, Mello's mind was rushing too fast to get caught up on the semantics._

_Regardless of the realities behind Near's moral character, Matt was right. This was Near, and he always had an organized plan or ultimate motive behind whatever move he made. But these allegations were something completely different. He pushed the thought away while his mind shifted gears to try and rationalize all of these claims._

"_Near's lying." Mello asserted. That was a simple cover to put over everything Matt had just said, but it hardly addressed the matter, and both occupants knew it._

_What it came down to was that either Near was lying, or Matt had something in his facts wrong, which implied that for the first time since Mello had known him, his best friend's skills had failed. Since the likelihood of that scenario didn't seem very plausible, given the weight of the instance, the only other option that seemed to be left was that Near was lying. There was the only viable conclusion to be drawn. The only person Mello had ever slept with was Near, and as such there was no way Mello could have a child. So then what were Near's motives? Why was Mello the last one to know about this? What the hell was going on?!_

"_How sure are you that this happened the way you think it did?"_

"_At least ninety-five percent. I was there, Mels, I know what happened, and that's exactly what I heard, and what I saw. He was there with some big guy handing the baby over." Matt said without missing a beat, as if taking any longer than was necessary to consider his choice of words would incite Mello's dormant wrath._

"_Near's lying." Mello reiterated to try and convince himself of the claim as he let his eyes slip closed momentarily to try and shut out all of the thoughts rushing through his mind. So many unanswered questions of why, so many wonders of how and what the motive could ever possibly be that would justify such actions from Near without even consulting him. This entire allegation seemed too impossible to even consider. There were too many qualities about it that just weren't like Near to do at all._

"_I mean, he's a nice kid, it seems," Matt blabbered on, "but I don't really know him, obviously. Trust me, Mels, I wouldn't have believed any of this either, even if it did come from Near. But I ended up entertaining the idea because, well… he does look a hell of a lot like you..."_

_Everything in Mello's world came to a screeching halt as Matt's words suddenly took the wind from him. For the briefest of moments he ebbed away every logical question which had obscured his vision. All that remained was for him to ponder the irrational. _

_What would it mean if Matt was right and somehow Near had given up Mello's biological child? Four years of silence, and separation. Four years for Near to do whatever he wanted without Mello hardly interfering. Four years of questions which suddenly boiled up the longer the blonde allowed himself to wonder what Near had dragged them both into._

"_Fuck, Matt!" Mello felt his blood heating as the thoughts and questions clouded his mind without any ability to stop them. He stood up, his body acting on its own without the conscious consideration of what it was he was doing. All he could think about, now, were the 'what if's._

"_Where are you going, Mels?"_

"_Where do you think, Matt? Someone has to figure out what the hell is going on!" Mello said, throwing on his coat from where he'd abandoned it by the chair he'd been sitting in._

"_You know where Near is?" Mello could have rolled his eyes at his friend's blatant idiocy if he wasn't already caught within the waves of confusion. Was Matt really asking him that? He supposed the years apart could have indeed caused some form of separation between their understandings of one another, if Matt was at all surprised that Mello knew where his rival was located._

_He didn't warrant the question with an answer, though, just going to the front door, "I'll let you know."_

-:-

_It wasn't nerves Mello felt as he approached Near's SPK tower for the first time in years. It wasn't the nonsensical, ludicrous sense of whirling nervousness he imagined he should feel by being on the precipice of seeing the rival for whom Mello could no longer even begin to try and pin a word on their relationship or feelings anymore._

_No, instead he allowed himself to be consumed by the swelling sense of anger, confusion, and hurt that'd developed the longer he allowed them to soak in his thoughts. Now, he needed answers more than he needed the air he held trapped within his lungs._

_If Matt or Near was lying about this, then in the very least he figured he could find out why this prolonged silence had been unnecessarily imposed between the two of them. It was a good ultimatum that helped fuel and justify his hurt._

_Where was the trust?_

_At one time, Mello had put every shred of his broken sense of trust onto Near, thinking that he could be trusted with something so fragile. So then, where were the unspoken promises now, the security, the silenced realm of a transitory universe they both had drawn the essence of their every breath from?_

_The building was unlocked despite the air it held of a total shut down for the night, exactly the way it always used to on those nights. For the briefest of moments Mello let himself consider the idea that perhaps both of them had actually wanted things to continue the way they had, yet neither had had the sense of pride to reach out to the other._

_The idea seemed rather suiting for their relationship, but that too wasn't what was really important right now and thus didn't deserve consideration. Mello's heart raced in his chest as the elevator ascended him higher into the building; he reminded himself of the fact that Near had eyes everywhere and no doubt already knew he was here._

_His hands balled into fists as he tried to hold his composure despite the pent up frustrations. He wasn't a child anymore, he told himself. His anger could no longer be justified through an explosive outburst, but the mere thought of all the things which had been happening without his knowledge, and potentially without his consultation made him want to scream._

_Why did it always have to be Mello? Why was it always Near that had to pluck at his finely tuned strings like a mediocrely crafted violin? For once in his miserable life, why couldn't it just be someone else?_

_The sound of shutting door brought Mello back to reality by alerting him that he'd gone much further than possible to back out of now. _

_At once he found himself in that same stagnant room. Everything was the same as he remembered it. The same living space, same design; everything glued to its perfect positioning. Mello's heart gripped in his chest as the flood of familiarity brought everything he'd ever tried to close away back beyond a level to which he could ever reasonably handle. _

_Without realizing it, the glass box had been shattered._

"_Mello." Near's firm words broke through the mist lying before Mello's eyes and in that moment he realized he'd lost track of how long he'd been standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" Near's voice was taut, demanding, but the words were underlined with confusion, and just a dash of wonder._

"_What did you do?" Mello forced a strong façade to the front lines, his tone came out solid, breathing each word with no room to let Near distract him or take away the delicate sense of power from the blonde. _

_Near's actions with his toy robots which surrounded him came to a sudden stop as Mello's tone struck him. He turned a bit to look over and gauge Mello's outer appearance, though his own gave nothing away. "I'm sorry?" He wondered, but the words hit Mello's ear like a gesturing goad. Why did Near have to provoke him? Couldn't he see how already thin the strings holding him together had been pulled?_

"_Tell me it's not true, Near." He hadn't necessarily meant the words to come out as pleading as they had, but as the emotions tossed his insides around, pride became the very last thing on his mind._

_The blonde observed how Near's expression contorted in the distinct way he did when he was trying to read everything he could out of Mello. The firm grip he'd had on his toys fell away, turning instead to give his full attention to the blonde, in that moment the simple action made the older successor feel that much more important to his rival. "You're being horribly vague, Mello. Get to the bottom of what you're asking me so we can keep this short." The chill expelled with the words was immediately vaporized by the swelter of Mello's anger and confusion._

"_Why? You already know what I'm here about, don't you?"_

"_I don't, Mello."_

_Mello's azure eyes locked onto Near; readying himself to read any subtle change that was made in the other's features as he carefully forced himself to construct the question, "did you give an infant to Wammy's four years ago?"_

_Near's dark grey eyes, once solid in their surety were immediately broken from the state, taking on instead an air of confusion that was near impossible to locate the origin. "Why are you asking me this?"_

"_Just answer the damn question, Near!" Mello practically shouted at him, barely able to keep any sense of composure under the building pressure of his unknowing. "Did you or didn't you, it's not that difficult of a question!"_

_Near's expression hardened once again, "I did."_

_Mello breathed out, his heart hammered in his chest till he thought he would go deaf from its desperate scream. "Whose?"_

_A heavy silence fell over the successors as both parties attempted to evaluate what their next operative move should be and what sort of reaction it would cause. Yet another mental game of chess between rivals, but not one Mello had the patience for despite the time spent apart. If Near was going to attempt to play games with him, then Mello was ready to flip the board._

_In the end, Mello watched his competitor heave a heavy sigh, "yours."_

_His fists clenched at his side till they shook, "Near…" He begged, in that moment losing any sense of care towards how his response might come across. He could barely bring himself to look at his rival as the weight of Near's answer threatened to crush everything in him. A part of him screamed and pleaded for Near to tell him he was being sarcastic, that he was lying. "Tell me." Anything but this…_

_Near's head cocked to the side a bit, one of his hands reaching to his hair to twirl a snowy bang, though his eyes never broke away from Mello; the intensity left the blonde feeling as though he would burn under the stare if left there long enough. "There is nothing to tell, Mello. An unexpected scenario arose in which a child was conceived between you and I and I had no choice but to take care of the situation as objectively as possible."_

_Mello's lips parted to speak, but Near cut him off, looking away momentarily with a roll of his dark, endless eyes, "don't bother asking me how, Mello. That is not exactly a conversation I'm willing to have with you right now."_

_The blonde's breath passed in and out of his nose in a contrived labored manner as he let the severity of his rival's words sink in. "There's nothing to tell?" He took a daring step closer to the other genius, "you have nothing to tell me?" The more the words imprinted themselves into Mello's new reality, the more he could feel himself losing it._

"_No, I don't." Near said, "I did what was best for everyone by leaving it at Wammy's. Neither you, nor I, know anything about the child. That is the way it needs to be. It makes living life much simpler." He watched Mello approach him, clearly taking note of the blonde's swelling animosity, but he made no movement to try and stop him; if anything he chose words specifically designed to entice him closer to his inevitable breakdown._

_Mello's anger suddenly ran cold through his veins as all the pieces slipped into their place in his conscious thought. Near was right, the most important questions at this moment weren't how any of this happened. It was what had happened, and why._

_Assuming nobody was lying to him and going strictly off Near's implied explanation, that meant that somehow Near had carried a child, their blood, just to dispose of him without ever telling Mello that any of this was even happening. Near had gone through all of it by himself; made all the decisions by himself. _

_Where was the trust they'd so delicately built up?_

_His heart gripped in his chest and that was the moment he lost control over himself, closing the distance between him and Near and grabbing the younger by his shirt. He heard the sick sound of his fist meeting Near before he could even register his actions. But even when he did acknowledge what he was doing he couldn't find any reasonable justification to stop himself._

_Near could get away with murder in Mello's eyes, because underneath all the outward competition and bitter hatred there existed an infallible sense of trust that could justify anything Near ever did. Anything, that is, except this. Not this level of conscious betrayal._

"_Mello!" Near called to him, trying to breach through the thick wall of hurt and outrage which separated Mello's physical actions from his consciousness; his thin arms raised to try and shield himself, but it was as though the only thing Mello could do was hit him to release the amount of hurt he had built up in such a short time._

_In the back of his mind he heard himself asking if this was still even about Near, or if it had become something much more._

"_Mello, stop!" _

_Mello pulled his arm back, ready to fire it again while trying to ignore the stains of red which painted his and Near's skin. His blue eyes narrowed in disgust and he threw Near back to the floor, taking a step back to try and keep from letting himself lash out so easily again. _

"_Why, Near? Why?" Mello forced out. He wanted to say just how much he'd trusted Near; how much of his heart and time he'd unconsciously invested into this and into them. He wanted to show him just how far Near had broken him down. "How could you do this to me?" _

"_It was for the best, Mello. It would be foolish to have taken any other course of action." Near reiterated his point, while at the same time trying to collect himself back to composure. He gingerly touched the stream of blood running down his face, as if to prove to himself that it was actually there._

_Even as Mello watched at his life-long rival, staring deep into the shadowy recesses of Near's being he saw not an ounce of guilt or regret. On the contrary, all he saw within him was a sort of self-condemnation at being unable to express line of thinking to Mello in a clearer manner._

_The realization made Mello want to resume punching him, but he was too caught in his shock to bring himself back to that state. "That wasn't your decision to make!" He screamed at him, "you had no right, Near! None! I deserved a say! How could you do this to me?"_

"_I did what objectively needed to be done!" Near's volume nearly matched Mello's, "I knew you would never be able to realize that, which is why I found it best not to include you in this. You can't change this now, Mello."_

_Mello felt his legs shake under the erupting foundation that was his world, now completely undone from what was once a rocky, yet reliable, basis for him to stand upon._

_He wanted to crumble under all this weight and utter destruction. Near had been his soft spot to fall in an otherwise merciless world, and even now it was tempting to use him in such a way, even after all the lies and the violence. But he couldn't do it. Near didn't deserve to see him like that anymore; this wasn't just some blind ignorance as a result of simply being unaware. Near knew Mello sometimes better than Mello even knew himself, and still Near had consciously gone and thrown away what one chance Mello could have had to find a bit of happy in the world. _

_Mello took a daring step closer to Near, his fists clenching at his sides, readying for a reason to be thrown. "How long?" He asked, "How long were you going to wait to tell me this?"_

"_Would you like reality, or what you would like me to tell you?"_

_Mello arm rose to hit him again, floored by the gall the other had to deliberately test him in that moment, but stopped as Near's own arm rose to shield himself again, the flesh on his hand and spots on his white shirt were stained with his blood. In that single moment, the outward sight of broken innocence, Mello's actions came to a stop. The sight which lay before him transported him back within his memories to a different time, an easier time. _

_The first time Mello had ever come to the SPK, taking refuge from an underground world that'd been after him, seeking medical assistance for his gunshot wound. He remembered the way Near had looked back then, the way Near's hands and shirt had been stained with Mello's blood after he'd taken it upon himself to care of him and patch Mello back together. He remembered those blood stained hands had touched his face, the way Near had inadvertently ushered the blonde to use him to seek his solace._

_How had they fallen from such grace?_

_Mello's silence prompted Near to speak. "I wouldn't," he said carefully, exhaling his words in a heavy breath, "I doubt I would have ever told you, Mello. How could I?"_

_Mello's hand moved but an inch to strike Near, who tensed up, ready for the blow. But it never came. As he watched the scene from the third person, just like the innocent bystanders who'd passed judgment on him in the airport; he now felt as though he was in their exact place, passing judgment upon the puppet and his maestro. _

_And because of that, Mello just couldn't bring himself to hit him anymore as Near's words sank beneath his skin, slowly melting the heart he'd tried so hard to guard and freeze. He wanted to keep hitting him; he wanted to punch Near till he was almost dead on the floor, just to relieve himself of these feelings he didn't know how to deal with. But he was too consumed by the realization of meaning behind the words._

_Near had dealt with the carrying, the delivery, the abandonment, all on his own. As he towered over his bleeding rival who was still poised to defend himself, Mello could suddenly envision how many nights Near must have spent alone, coping with the guilt, wrestling with the shame, organizing and painting the perfect portrait of isolation with cold, numb fingers that were better designed for the intricate task of pulling strings rather than threading his own back together._

_Where was the trust?_

_Not the trust to tell the blonde, but the trust that Mello could have done something to help him? Why was it only Mello who could ever seem to be broken down to his fundamentals between them. Why had Near sullied himself to take care of him and yet Mello had never once done the same for him? Why couldn't Mello ever seem to be able to read Near, the only being he could rightfully call his partner, well enough to know when he needed him most, instead of just selfishly taking everything Near had ever offered him?_

_Near's cautious words urged Mello's mind back down to the new reality they'd created. "When I first contacted the pretending L acting on the Japanese task force, the first thing they did was an investigation of their own. They went to Wammy's and got all the information they possibly could. On both of us. If Kira is among them what do you think he would do if he somehow found out about this situation we created?"_

"_Don't call it that!" Mello shot out in his frustration, hating the way his sensitive ears could hear Near string his words together ever so carefully so as to avoid allotting any sort of pronoun or any humanity, to their child. _

"_If Kira found out about the child…" Near amended, his voice barely breaking the silence._

"_So abandonment was the best choice, the best protection?" Mello asked almost sarcastically. _

_The younger's fingers moved slowly to his hair, deep grey eyes never broke from Mello's glowing blue pair. He nodded, "Yes. Wammy's is the best protection and the best chance the future has."_

_Mello's fist shook as Near's words sent him into yet another spiral of memories, this time of himself as a child at the institution. The feelings of failure and inadequacy had been his constant companions and still haunted him like ghosts waiting in the shadows._

_In that moment, he knew that regardless of what Near wanted or said he couldn't live with the possibility of subjecting his own child to what he'd gone through._

_There was no doubt in his mind that any sort of biological blend between himself and his rival had all the potentiality to be the next, perhaps even the greatest L, but the risk and the abuse that came with such a fate would never be worth it to him. Not even for the sake of the world. _

"_I can fix this." He heard himself proclaim as he broke from his statuesque position which instantly caused Near's state to noticeably relax as well._

"_Fix?" Near questioned with a miniscule tick of his head to the side, judging Mello's words. "There is nothing to fix. I have gone to great lengths to carefully construct things the way they need to be; the way which will best benefit everyone, Mello."_

_Mello's hands slipped into his jacket pockets as his mentality switched from the justifiable anger and confusion to one of a necessity for strength. He would need every ounce of his remaining sanity if he was to have any hope of cleaning up the mess Near had made. He paused, momentarily relishing in the feeling as this was a sort of moment he may never get to experience again._

_Near making the wrong call and Mello being the one to finally right the world. It was sweet. Bittersweet._

"_Perhaps," he started to the door, "but you don't know people the way I do, Near. And you've obviously underestimated my conscious compulsion to ruin every single one of your plans."_

_All Mello had ever done throughout his entire life was get in the way of the seemingly balanced order of life and rip it down from its secured corners one way or another, whether he meant to or not. Now, for the first time in his apparently predestined fate, he would be the one thing the world, his world, needed in order to be set back onto a normal track._

"_Good luck." He heard uttered as he exited._

Mello's eyes slipped open, back in the present and once again free from his haunting memories. That incident felt like such a long time ago, now. Ever since those moments had thrown his reality into an entirely new direction, time had somehow just began melding together on itself till he could hardly even begin to conceive how long it had been since any of it had taken place. Maybe a month? Maybe two? Perhaps longer? It was too hard to tell at this point.

Everything was quiet within the apartment tonight. Michael had been sent to bed so Mello and Matt could work on the Kira investigation as best they could with what little they had to work with. Matt sat on the couch behind a table of oddly strewn computers and wires while Mello sat behind his own, barely even watching the surveillance footage while the news played muted on the TV in the background.

Mello's eyes flicked over to the closed bedroom door where he knew Michael was sleeping soundly. He exhaled, wondering if his son had any idea how much was actually going on in the world, or how much work he was doing just to try and keep him safe. As much as the blonde hated to admit it sometimes, Near was right in his assertion that the Kira case should come first.

Nothing Mello did to better his young son's quality of life would be worth it if Kira was allowed to continue his path to dominating the entire world.

His azure eyes moved back to the computer screen, watching Misa Amane reading on the couch. Even if she was the supposed second Kira, she obviously wasn't acting as such now, nor had she been so long as the blonde had been watching her over the multiple days. _'We have constant surveillance on her, but there's been no movement to even suggest she could be using a Death Note. This is getting us nowhere at all.'_ He ripped open a new bar of chocolate, breaking off a piece and letting it melt on his tongue as the sweet taste began to entice his thoughts to drift away from the present again.

That confrontation with Near had certainly been burned into his memory…

For as long as much as Near had always pissed him off, even when they were still competing at Wammy's, Mello had _never_ hit the younger genius. Near had never pushed him _that_ far before, because even at their worst and their most vindictive moments, they both had always had an unconscious understanding of what things they could say and do that they could get away with, and where the invisible line was that should never be crossed.

For Mello, that line was his fantasy ideas about his future which he'd always created for himself.

Mello had never had much in his life, but one of the things he did have was his fantasies of what he wanted his life to become and what kind of world he wanted to live in. It wasn't much, but it was something he could let himself think about and envision when he closed his eyes, which was better than focusing on the feelings of disappointment, or the memories of blood and death which had always seemed to relentlessly follow him. Near knew this fact better than anyone ever had, and had even let him live within it, and caress the fringe of its fine fabric with the very tips of his fingers.

But when the cruelties of science gave them the chance to let Mello further hold onto his dream, Near had taken it upon himself to throw it away. No matter what Near said, or what he did, no matter what Near ever told him, or how much progress Near had made since that night, Mello doubted he would ever truly be able to completely forgive Near for what he'd done.

His eyes traveled down to the television as he took another bite off his sweet treat, staring at the screen as though the news anchors might actually tell him something useful that could somehow help his investigation, or in the very least tell him what he was supposed to do about Near and Michael.

What _was_ he supposed to do? How _was_ he supposed to handle all this? He'd been so sure of himself and his plans when he left the SPK building that night, knowing almost exactly what he was should to do to right the situation Near had forced them into. But now, he was at a loss. It was just as Near always seemed to remind him, Mello always acted on his emotions without thinking things through before he did them.

He exhaled, watching the new spokeswoman for Kira come onto the television screen, her muted mouth moving to share the will of Kira with the world. Mello's eyes moved away, back to the surveillance once more.

'_This is useless. Amane might be the second Kira, but she sure as hell isn't right now. If she had any connection to Kira there'd be much more suspicious activity going on here.'_ The surveillance felt like a piece to the overall puzzle, if he was to use Near's cliché metaphor. She was a single portion to an entire picture of the true face of Kira. As his contemplations settled, suddenly an interesting notion lit up.

'_Misa is the second Kira, but she's not acting like it. For now we could assume she doesn't possess a notebook, making her just another woman. Kira is still killing, so there is still a line of information being given to him.'_ His eyes moved back to the television. _'The original spokesperson for Kira, Demegawa, was killed by Kira then suddenly this woman, Takada, gets put into place to speak for Kira. So she must know what it is Kira wants to happen, the level that Kira won't kill her… direct contact then between her, whoever is Kira and…'_

Like a sparked fire to a forest, Mello's mind was suddenly plunged into speeds he'd never experienced before, hypothesizing, deducing, conclusions, justifications. Everything suddenly began to fall into place for him and it was as though at once he was able to see the light of what was going on underneath it all, and how he could weed out Kira.

He could do this. He could _win_ this! He could get to this serial killer before Near was able to! Everything made perfect sense! He could prove everything and lead it all back to the true identity of Kira. He could finally finish this so Michael would have a chance to meet Near and have some semblance of a normal life. Everything was going through Takada. Everything relied on her. Kira, and the entirety of the Kira-supporting world relied on her!

As quickly as the epiphany had come, suddenly everything fell away from him. All his proofs, all his conclusions, all the plans he'd suddenly concocted registered in his brain and threw everything into a screeching stop.

Everything relied on her…

Everything.

Which meant…

_Smash!_

A new fire lit in Mello's mind, filtering down to suffocate his heart and flood his veins till he could no longer hope to control himself. He found himself standing, the computer which had been on his lap now crashed down to the wooden floor at his feet; his hands clenched together into fists as his mind was plagued with thoughts regarding what should be done from this point. What _needed _to be done. The more he watched the plan rush past his mind, the more he didn't want it anymore; but he couldn't find a way to stop it.

"What the fuck, Mello!" Matt shouted at him, bringing his game system down from in front of his goggled eyes, eyeing between his childhood best friend and one of his precious computers now on the floor.

"Dammit!" Mello shouted, the frustration pumping through his body with every heartbeat. "Dammit, why?!" He heard himself say.

"What?" Matt asked defensively, putting the game system back on the table but hesitating whether or not to risk trying to salvage his computer.

"God dammit! I…" He couldn't bring the words he wanted out from within the core of his being, to tell Matt that he'd figured it all out and that he knew what they needed to do from here. Everything had fallen into place, and Kira's face was soon to be revealed. But the way it stood, there was no room for Mello's deformed piece in this puzzle. How could he tell Matt all of this?

"Why the fuck does this always happen to me?" He heard himself shouting. He felt as though he was back at that night with Near, screaming at the younger successor in a desperate attempt to cover up his hurt and his anger. Near always got his way at the expense of Mello. That's just how the world works; the way it _has_ to work.

"Mello, what-."

"Stop!" He screamed at his own mind which kept forcing the thoughts to play, "Why the fuck can't _I _get what I want, for once in my damn life? Is that too much to ask for? Why do I always have to be the one who gets stepped on so others get what they want? This isn't how it's supposed to be! This isn't what's supposed to happen! I deserve a say, too!"

"Mello, stop!" Matt tried, standing and going over to him, pushing his goggles up for green eyes to meet blue. "You're going to-."

"Daddy?" The small voice immediately brought the entire apartment to silence. Both sets of eyes moved over to the once closed bedroom door, where now Michael's small figure stood halfway in the living room, the large shirt he wore to sleep in hanging off his left shoulder while he clung onto Henry with his other arm. A look of pure, unbridled fear laced his grey eyes.

Those were Near's eyes. That was the same look Near had given Mello that night during their confrontation when he'd hit him… The look of panic; the look of broken trust.

"Michael…" Mello breathed out, guilt clutching his heart within its merciless grasp. What was he supposed to say? How was he now supposed to fix this, too? "Dammit!" He turned away, the world closing in on him as he felt himself descending into that frustrated, despondent state again. "I…"

"Go!" Matt suddenly halted Mello's mental decline, pushing him towards the door. "Go on, go, Mello!"

"Matt? I-."

The redhead didn't give him the time to try and find words to explain himself. He grabbed the older successor's jacket that'd been abandoned and pushed it in his arms, opening the front door while simultaneously pulling down his goggles once more. "Go, Mello. You know where you need to be right now." Their eyes locked, and through a connection stronger than either of them could ever have the words to try and define or wrestle through, it was clear Matt understood what was going on in Mello's mind.

"I can't j-."

"You can, Mello." Matt finished. "You always do. Get out of here till you calm down. I'll handle things here."

"But I-."

"I said," Matt interrupted, "I'll handle it." The look in his eyes assured the blonde that Matt could, indeed, be his rock to support him in this brief moment that he needed to take, just come to terms with this revelation. "I trust you, Mels!" The redhead added with a cheeky smile before finally pushing him out the door and closing it behind him, effectively shutting him out of yet another sphere of his world, leaving him with only silence and empty space

'_But I don't trust myself…'_

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><p>AN: Well, that was a long and arduous process… I did the first draft of this over about three days and every time I came back to it the chapter just felt dry and lacking the power and force it needs. I feel like the entire story has been leading up to these moments, so hopefully they come across better for you than it is for me. Any comments you have would be greatly appreciated!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	17. Down

A/N: Well… this took considerably more time than I originally meant it too. Also, speaking of originally, fun fact for you all: this was originally going to be the final chapter of this story. But it's not. There is one more chapter to this story itself. Also, there is a poll on my profile which you should all go vote in regarding whether or not there should possibly be a sequel or not (I'll be leaving it up until after this story if finished, too, in case you want to wait to vote or something). Also fun fact, this chapter is named 'Down' because of the song 'Down' by Blink -182, which is what inspired most of it. In case you were interested in knowing that. Anyway, despite how jumpy this chapter still feels for me, please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story, except Michael.

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><p><span>Chapter 17<span>: Down

The drumming sound of the pouring down rain fusing with the screaming of the motorcycle engine beneath him was hardly enough for Mello to escape the bellowing he heard within his own ears. His eyes locked on the road, trying desperately to shut out the thoughts and visions his mind insisted on playing out for him.

As he automatically shifted into a higher gear while passing a car along the highway he felt adrenaline shoot through his veins. It was the kind of overwhelming sensation that grips at you with all the comforts of an iron maiden; that seduces you into a false sense of immortality while whispering in your ear that if you just push a bit more, if you run a bit faster, you'll pierce the lingering veil of the nightmare that's reality and all her obligations.

The highway was becoming emptier now, leaving Mello completely consumed in the solitude of his own persistent realizations.

Matt had held that Mello knew where he was supposed to be right now, and of that the gamer wasn't wrong. Mello knew that the only logical place to go right now was the escapement within the breadth of Near's contrived isolation.

But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not now; not this time, when his mind was filled with so many burdening expectations.

Near knew how to push every one of Mello's buttons, and at such a crucial moment it wouldn't take the younger genius but a mere second, one correctly placed order of words, to get Mello to spill all of his mental troubles, whether because Mello needed him as an outlet, or as a second opinion. But expelling his fears onto Near wasn't what needed to happen at that point and would only hinder Mello's progress.

Just once Mello needed to take the control away from Near in order to run the show just long enough to win it all. Realistically, though, the only way to accomplish that was to create as much mental distance between himself and Near as possible.

But when left to his accord, all these thoughts and feelings became utterly suffocating; choking him more and more with second that ticked by. As the thoughts overwhelmed him his selfish side began to demand that he make use of his personal, recreational drug while he still could.

Gritting his teeth he pushed the motorcycle faster still, listening to its responsive sick whine of protest yet failing to give the machine any bit of consideration. His internal compulsion pulled at every string of his heart while systematically laying out all the supporting reasons he didn't want to hear.

He dared not look down at his speedometer as the road fell into a blur of tunnel vision. _'I'm better than this,'_ he screamed at himself as the chilled rain hit him like needles. _'I'm stronger than this!'_

His heart contradicted his mind's mantra, instead telling him that he wasn't all he thought he was, or rather trying to make him realize the haunting fact he'd been trying to run from since he was a child. It was the same fact which Wammy's, and now the entire world seemed to have set out to ruthlessly rub in his face.

Mello wasn't a passenger to his own life. He'd been there, he'd seen this fact happen and had carefully observed its growing developments over so many years. But knowing and watching a painful truth didn't make acknowledging it any easier.

Mello pushed faster, desperate for any additional amount of speed to take him away from this world; this reality. He just needed something new to take him away from himself for just a second. A second was all he needed to make the eldest successor feel sane again; like he could take on a world that had forever been pit against him.

His sense of sight seemed to fall away from him, replaced by the calming vision of a snowy expanse in the heart of winter. The crisp chill in the air slowed everything down into a hushed hibernation against what was otherwise a chaotic remainder of the year. A heavy breath left Mello's parted lips as his hand eased up on the grip he'd had on the handle of the motorcycle which had been keeping him speeding forward; now instead slowing him down through the reasonable range of speed for the empty highway, then down into a coasting stop.

He stared forward at the sheets of rain which pummeled the road in front of him, but his mind was stuck within the now wintery fantasy world he'd always created for himself. He didn't care for his relative safety, at that moment, or the fact that other vehicles would be coming upon his location any second, or even the chilled shake that his hands were giving off even as they remained gripping the handlebars.

"Dammit…" He cursed; looking up to the heavens and letting its release wash over him. Why did things always have to turn out this way? Why did the world always work against what he wanted? Why couldn't it relent just this once? Throughout his life the entire world had been trying to make him acknowledge what was right in front of him, and his entire life he'd been fighting it against it.

But he didn't have the energy to fight anymore… when life got particularly difficult, and everything was lined up against the blonde, what he needed, and what he sought out was a chance to make everything stop. He couldn't run from his problems, he could only face it when the winds of strength were breathed back into his weary form.

He'd created this fantasy world of what his life _should_ be life to let himself live outside his reality for a while. But that wasn't enough to make him feel strong, because he was always outside looking into the life he wanted. What he needed was a fantasy he could live in that was closer to his life; perhaps one that wasn't warm and sunny, but instead cold, still, with the familiarity of snow.

He gritted his teeth. It was true, Mello was stronger and better than his current state, but he could only ever hope to get to that point when he had Near in his corner to help him pause the world's constant spin; even if their outward relationship didn't make it appear that way.

In the end he could only ever hope to be able to find his own strength to do what needed to be done when he stopped fighting the natural order of the world and instead took his own predetermined position within its grand scheme and let those on his side help him when he most needed it.

Swearing once more under his breath Mello started up his motorcycle just as the headlights from approaching cars began to light the road, then sped off again, finally letting himself become fully acquainted to the acknowledgment of where it was he needed to be, and why.

-:-

Even acknowledging the world's predetermining fate didn't make living with it any easier. The closer he got to that damned fortress of ice the more Mello found himself losing his words, losing his every reasoning and justification. Unlike Near, Mello didn't have a logical backing to his every action; sometimes he just did what he thought needed done, regardless of the outcome his decisions brought about. Now was one of the instances where impulsion and utter need were just enough for him.

The air circulating within the new SPK tower sent chills down Mello's spine as he stood there in the doorway, soaking wet from his mental venture, yet at the same time still utterly stuck within the confines of his own mind.

Given the dire scenario now playing out on the world's playing board, this one moment seemed oddly fitting. It seemed only proper that the conclusion to this internal game should occur in relatively mirrored events to those which had initiated it.

The first time Mello had ever come here, accepting Near's extended olive branch of an offered safe spot, had been on a night much the same as it was now. Though of course this time around Mello was lacking the bullet wound in his arm.

"Mello." Near greeted from the younger's usual spot on the floor; with his same customary greeting to initiate the familiar stages of their dance.

Silence. Pristine, innocent silence was all Mello could give so he didn't completely shatter in Near's presence; under everything they'd built around them. An impromptu drip of water fell from Mello's blonde locks onto the floor, becoming the only response he could offer the younger.

He watched the way Near instantly regarded his silent response with brief curiosity, clearly wondering where the blonde's expected complimentary steps had gone. Near looked back, as if to visually assure himself that Mello was, in fact, actually there. As gray eyes met blue conversation transpired between the locked gazes; simultaneously unintelligible, yet likewise holding enough comprehension to instantaneously pull the right strings in both parties.

"What is it?" Near asked, the question being offered more out of respect for Mello's sake than because he ever really needed to ask.

Though even as he asked the question Mello could read the way Near's stare was trying to get under his skin to determine the root of his cold behavior. The forthcoming inquiry was the beginning of the assault Mello had assumed he'd receive; the way for Near to push his buttons, looking for the weak point in his façade that would bring everything down. Mello wasn't about to let Near get such a satisfaction so easily, though.

"Nothing." Mello said quietly.

The response earned a visibly narrowed look from his rival, though Near finally sighed after a moment of perpetuated silence. Mello wondered if Near was legitimately willing to drop his concern, or if it was his way of deciding to look for another way past the blonde's walls. Knowing Near's tendencies, it was safe to assume the latter.

"You're dripping water all over the floor." Near stated, standing from the pile of robots and action figures which surrounded him.

"That does tend to happen." Mello responded again, hearing the dispirited emotion behind his own jibes as he finally moved from the doorway over to the small tiled kitchen space. Sitting on one of the chairs that'd been beside a table he was brought back to the memory of the nights he'd spent at the SPK building in New York and wondered to himself who exactly designed these living spaces, and whether they realized the kind of person that would be occupying it.

The answer he'd always come to was a simple 'probably not' considering the entire area was horribly designed for someone like Near, who barely ate or slept unless prompted to do so by some third party. Even Mello had only seen the younger genius eat just a handful of times, and even then it'd never been much.

A sudden towel being thrown over his head broke the blonde from his thoughts, just in time to feel the younger begin working to dry him off. Mello exhaled, closing his eyes and relishing in the comforting sensation of being looked after for once.

"I'm always amazed by your broad assumptions that everything will be as you think it will when you show up here unannounced, Mello." Near commented dryly, pulling Mello back from within the comforting thoughts that'd begun to digress into those of a more tranquil nature.

"You're a creature of habit, Near. You've been dictating schedules for as long as I've known you, and I'd bet money that it always will." As the water was slowly sopped up from his person, the blonde again felt his sense of identity taking the dampness's place, the perception becoming reflected in his verbal comebacks.

"True." Near said, "However, things are a bit different now than they ever have been." Mello knew what Near was going to say before he'd even gotten the words out. "The Kira case will be ending soon."

"Yeah, I know." Mello exhaled. "Hence why I'm here."

"I know." Of course he did. Near always knew. But how much did he know; how much was Mello unknowingly giving away at that very moment? "I have the board completely set, Mello. Your involvement is hardly needed anymore, at this point." Mello registered that the words were Near's way of goading him into a reaction, the result of which Near would be able to gauge where Mello's mind currently stood.

Near definitely did have everything set up perfectly, Mello realized. All the way down to their conversation had been well orchestrated. There was nothing he could say now that wouldn't give something away. The only thing Mello could do at this point was what he had always done best –run; to run from Near's invisible web of ensnaring words. "Of course you do, Near. You always do." Mello responded evasively, watching the floor without ever really seeing it.

Mello felt Near's actions come to a stop, gentle and delicate hands situated atop Mello's head, the towel the only thing separating their contact.

At once one of Near's hands left its previous positioning, moving under Mello's chin; soft fingers compelling him to look up until Near was the only thing within the blonde's field of view. The usual scrutinizing gray eyes which Mello had always felt miniscule under now worked harder than he'd ever seen them before, trying to get as far inside Mello's mind as he needed to discern what he was thinking.

Yet, for the first time Mello didn't feel threatened by being under Near's microscope, because at that moment he saw the way their fundamental roles as people had somehow been reversed. Mello was as shut in as he possibly could be, while every flick of Near's orbs was filled with a sort of underlying tender worry and consideration that could only be obtained through a developed maternal instinct.

Overcome by this image, Mello felt the words he'd never wanted to utter bubbling in his center; the words forbidden by Near's one unspoken rule.

The other's whispered appeal stopped the eldest before he could let his impulses take over. "Tell me what you're thinking, Mello."

The simmering grew into a boil, the steam burning his tongue and his lips. Mello was self-admittedly never good at following established rules, but this one more than any other he understood to be most important to keep unbroken, as it held all the potentiality to utterly break him, and them, in two.

He forced himself to choke it all back down. "If you were as good of a detective as you think you are you wouldn't need me to tell you; you could just read what you need."

Near's fingers left Mello's chin, leaving the blonde feeling abandoned in the world once more as the younger took a step back, twisting a lock of hair as he watched the blonde with the same expression he'd held before; making Mello wonder if Near even knew what was seeping out.

"I can read it, Mello, but I don't like what I'm seeing." Near stated.

"That's rather vague for being the new L."

"Well you're not exactly being as conspicuous as you usually are about things that bother you, Mello." Near explained plainly, "Clearly you don't want to talk to me about it."

"Then why are we?"

"We're not."

"It sure seemed like we were." Mello shot back, trying not to let Near get the upper-hand in their conversation, allowing Near to swindle him back into the corner.

"I can read your thoughts like a book, Mello." Near said quieter, whispering to him a secret that Mello didn't want to hear.

The younger successor stepped closer again to carefully wipe away a drop of water from the blonde's cheek, their stare breaking just long enough for Near to set his stoic façade back comfortably into place. "I simply wanted to know what was on your mind." He stated.

Mello allowed the younger to twist the conversation to his liking; it seemed to be in a much safer position now. He again broke the stare between them, "Michael's on my mind."

"As he always is." Near commented, lacking any sort of sarcastic undertone.

"It's different now; things are different, Near."

"As they rightly should be."

Mello shot a glare at Near, fighting back his continuous natural urge to find the underlying meaning in Near's few words. But as his lips parted to continue shelling out the worries that plagued him, his heavily guarded defensive wall stopped the flow of words. How could he even begin to tell Near what he'd allowed to happen earlier that night? How could he say that his brief loss of control made him feel unfit to handle either Michael or himself? Near was ultimately his guiding light, and he always had been, but he was equally afraid to hear the response he'd get for explaining the situation.

Blue eyes moved up to look into Near's, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. "Things are pretty volatile, now. Anything could happen."

The slight tick of the younger successor's head marked the shift in which the two partner's wavelengths moved out of sync, into two opposite planes. "You're unsure." Near concluded.

"I'm unsure about a lot of things."

"Predominantly?"

"Predominately you."

Silence descended upon the room again; Near held completely still while he waited for an explanation to their dynamic conversation. Mello finally began to breathe out his one worry; the words met the air without granting him a reprieve for his concerns. "I've never asked anything of you before. But now you need to promise me just one thing, Near."

"You've consistently asked a great deal of me, Mello." Near countered, the younger's own defenses having been raised high through the scrupulous way in which he chose every word.

The attentiveness wasn't lost on Mello and at once he knew what Near was getting at. His teeth grit, "I've never _outwardly_ asked anything of you."

Near looked away to keep from arguing further, and though the blonde successor felt his level of annoyance quickly escalating he forced himself to continue, unable to hide his own heartache, "So I need just one thing from you, Near. Regardless of what happens at the end of this case, or who ends up at the finish line first, swear to me that you will never send Michael back to Wammy's."

Mello's spoken words were brimming with the utterances he could never say. _'Tell me, as your enemy, as your lover, as your disposable play thing, as your only friend in this world… just tell me you'll do this…'_

The sacred silence between them was cut only by the rain that pelted the glass exterior wall of their imprisoned world; the only thing which marked the passing of time. Near's expression never faltered, as though he had been expecting this request from Mello, or that he'd read straight through to Mello's core concern this entire time.

"Sorry, I don't make promises that I don't intend to keep." Near said in an apathetic exhale.

His irritation shot up in a defensive need to protect himself, "You owe me this, Near!" Mello had put himself out there, extending out his hand in need to the one he trusted with more than just his ultimately fragile life; but all he had to show for it was frost bite.

"I have never owed you anything, Mello. If we're to speak of technicalities, then it would be you who owes me a great deal." Near retorted.

The blonde shook his head, "For once in your fucking life, Near, can you just stop playing the game? For once just give me a sign that you're actually a human being!"

Near's left hand rose to twist a lock of hair while he contemplated Mello's words for the briefest of moments. "Again, I don't make promises I won't keep, Mello. We'll deal with that sort of circumstance if it ever arises."

Mello still felt the frost cutting into the vulnerabilities he'd placed in front of Near. But perhaps the pain was just as much his fault, considering it was a rather impulsive move on his part to think that Near would ever possess the range of emotions necessary to give Mello the reassurances he needed. He did have a rather bad habit of giving Near too much credit.

"But more importantly," Near started again, "If it's Michael you're ultimately worried about, then why are you here?"

Mello swallowed, feeling his agitation returning to a more manageable level despite the deep-pitted sense of dismay and hurt he felt towards the other. "I…" He hesitated, choosing every word with extreme care. "It's just where I need to be right now."

He saw the steps laid out before him that was controlling the system, he saw the puzzle with all its scattered pieces; he knew exactly what his moves needed to be. But he wasn't like Near, he wasn't just an outwardly robotic being that could play the game without investing his emotions into it. Mello experienced everything, determination, frustration, and everything in between enough for the both of them, but right now all he felt was fear; a sense of terror that had collected enough for the both of them.

All he wanted was for Near to use his divinely blessed abilities to redeem him from this Hell so he could breathe. For just one more second he wanted Near to let him forget his duties, the way they used to have things organized. All he needed was one more second of peace, of assurance, to feel one drop of the positive emotions he'd never felt to the magnitude of which he experienced when he was around Near.

"No." Near shook his head; Mello's heart froze. "This isn't where you should be, Mello." The successor's body moved as though there was no weight to the words he was saying, though perhaps to him there was no reason for him to think anything different.

Near carefully took the towel from Mello, folding it together neatly. Dark eyes then met Mello's desperate pools of blue which silently begged Near to stop talking, to just stop where he was, to realize his miscalculation and take it all back while he still could.

But the ache in Mello's heart told him that Near's words were his promises. There was no miscalculation simply because Near didn't make miscalculations.

Delicate hands reached out and smoothed down Mello's damp, blonde locks of hair. "We've both said it here tonight, things are different now."

"Near…"

"You're worried about Michael's place within this game that was started much before his time. I can assure you that at this moment your concern is in the right place, Mello. Michael has become your number one priority now, as he should be. That's your place in this, and therefore where you should be right now is with him, not me."

"No." Mello shook his head, feeling himself too broken to fight back. Near wasn't quite morally sound enough to be God, in Mello's world, but he was more relatable to a saint; incarnating from that of Saint Peter specifically, in this case.

Near sighed, stepping away from him. "How should I make this clear to you…," He mused aloud. "There's not much time left at all, so decisions must be made before things shift out of this perfect balance. You don't need me, Mello. I can't help you with your role, as we can only control ourselves, at this stage. You will make your own moves, regardless of any words I _could_ offer you. That's just your way. However, contrary to what you might believe, I trust your judgment to make the right decision."

They were both still, silent, and further apart now than they ever had been in their entire history, and there was nothing Mello could do but watch in anguish as his saint shut the gates of Heaven in front of him; all without an ounce of remorse.

"You have to go now, Mello." There was a somberness to both Near's gaze and his words as he hammered in the final nail, "You need to be with our son right now."

-:-

At a moment like this Mello had figured there should be adrenaline pumping through his veins; at least that would have seemed to be the correct biological response, and would have been much preferred to this overwhelming feeling of lethargy as a result of an immobilizing sense of fear that he just couldn't eliminate.

Mello hadn't known it was possible for his body or his hands to shake as badly as they were in that second. They each had their roles to play and their own specific actions to take, he reminded himself, and with this move Mello had orchestrated all of his.

There was nothing left for him to do but wait.

It was gruesomely silent as he sat in the driver's seat of the truck parking in the abandoned church he'd found. Sitting there made him feel the domineering gaze of the entire world upon him, mixed with the encroaching cold fingers of death ensnaring the locked space.

The sound of gunshots from the speakers immediately quickened his heart-rate, his eyes widening as they moved over to the artificial light of the portable TV he'd brought with him here in order to keep a personal eye on the outside world while it simultaneously watched him.

'_Matt!'_ His breath caught as he was met with the shot by the merciless covering new station of his best friend, now lying dead at the hands of an anarchic police force. He swallowed hard, _'I didn't… Fuck it wasn't supposed to happen like this!'_ He screamed at himself, trying to force his lungs to function again and for his gaze to look away from the screen before it made him sick.

Dammit, of all things, Matt was supposed to be the one to get away from all this. _'What's going to happen now?'_ He swallowed again, trying to think clearly and to keep the realization of Matt being dead from completely swallowing his entire being. His best friend wasn't expendable, and he hadn't counted on things happening this way.

'_You miscalculated brainwashed people's tendency to behave irrationally.'_ Came the familiar monotone voice of Near in Mello's thoughts.

He cringed, _'Shut up, Near! I don't fucking need you right now! Someone's going to act now, either the real Kira or the currently acting Kira; more than likely it'll be both of them since I now have their intermediary. It's your job to figure out who, and what's going on, but not until they make their moves. Are you up for it?'_

'_I didn't need your help.'_

'_This isn't help.'_

'_You're right, this is just foolishness.'_

'_This is winning.'_ Mello's eyes closed as his head rest back on the seat, his heart racing as his survivalist instinct to live began to kick in, though he commanded his mind to keep distracted from it, letting himself muse instead for a moment on the thought of what exactly Near would actually be doing or thinking as a result of this new development.

Did he think there was a way to fix this? Was he condemning Mello for pulling such a stunt? He shook his head, letting his head lower down till his forehead met the rim of the steering wheel. It didn't matter what Near or even the world was thinking. What mattered was that he'd filled his responsibility, fulfilling his role and serving his usefulness.

If everything else followed his plan and fell into place then Near would have his evidence and the Kira case would be over. Michael would be safe. As hard as it was for him to think about, in the end keeping his son safe no matter what was Mello's real duty, and realistically there would probably never be a threat bigger than Kira.

As such, if sacrificing himself meant that the world would justly keep turning for that little blonde haired boy that he'd somehow helped create, then all the pain and suffering would always be worth it and Mello would be willing to do it a million lives over.

His heart involuntarily clenched painfully in his chest; making him gasp out a ragged breath of stale air. _'Michael…_' Then it all came to a stop.

-:-

Orange, red and bright shades of yellow licked at the frame of view of the television screen as the old church was totally engulfed by the blaze. Near couldn't pull his eyes away from the flames, despite how hard his mind pleaded for him to yield, even if for no other reason than his mentality's sake of composure alone. Though, in utter contrast his heart was the factor which kept his eyes transfixed, as if staring longer would eventually prove to be some elaborate ruse.

He had hardly believed Halle when she reported what was happening upon finding Mello's whereabouts. Logically it made sense for Kira to go to such lengths to ensure Mello didn't acquire any information from Takada about his identity or the elaborate system they'd devised.

But this…

He finally found the strength to turn his head away, fighting the feeling of nausea rising in the pit of his stomach from an emotion he didn't entirely understand.

He pushed the communication button on the transceiver beside him. "Any chance of escape by either of them?" He didn't need to ask. The flicker from the fires licked at his peripherals, taunting him with their absoluteness.

"No…" Halle responded; the despair evident in her voice a feature which made Near's eyes roll.

"Stay and make sure." Near told her as he cut the line of communication before she had a chance to point out the uselessness of the order. There was a stifling, heavy silence within the headquarters, wrought with the questions, concerns, and words that Near just couldn't deal with right now. Gevanni and Rester remained stark still, reading into Near's mood enough for both to reconsider any attempt to say anything, or ask for instructions.

'_Mello…'_ Near thought to himself with the slight inclination of anger, _'What have you done?'_ The youngest successor couldn't move, could barely breathe, or even bring his mind to trudge on from one thought into the next. The flames which consumed the church had spread out into new feeding ground –Near's mind, singeing his thoughts and burning the fine strings of his heart.

"Turn it off." He ordered with his voice rigid, without an ounce of emotion. At once there was a brief clicking sound followed by the room being flooded in the familiar dull light of the computer monitors. Near felt the frigid emotional surge he'd been trying to contest through means of denial begin creeping up through his extremities.

Absolute solitude.

Near had felt isolation before, he knew the quality well as it had been the core element to his world's make up for so many years. He'd built it up, making it a constant companion around himself for the practical necessity of total objectiveness. But that aura of isolation was much different than _this_.

His usual self-withdrawal had always possessed a certain blonde spider thread leading out of the darkness, back to the reality Mello had always shoved upon him. He'd always been the source of light behind everything, forcing Near to come to terms with the idea that existence wasn't as black and white as he might've wanted it to be. Mello had constantly tried to show him that the world was three dimensional, multi-faceted, and full of brilliant colors in his own unpleasant ways.

But now… his golden thread had suddenly snapped, leaving Near's world fading back into the shadows of grey as he became progressively more lost within his own self-induced abyss. Even he was overcome by fear at the prospect of experiencing such a void utterly alone.

'_Why?'_ He asked himself. _'This was never any of your concern, Mello! Your responsibility was-.'_ The meaningless reprimanding was cut off as a bolt of electricity shot the word down his spine; the darkness in his abysmal seclusion was suddenly held back by the striking of a single match. _'Michael!'_

Gray eyes narrowed on the air in front of him. _'Damn you, Mello. You never ask anything of me? Perhaps in your mind you don't, but you do have quite the tendency to make me the one who has to clean up your messes.'_ He pushed the thought away, then stood up, a new thought appearing in his mind, _'What am I supposed to do?_ _What do you expect me to do? This is not objective at all! You know what should happen.'_

His hand reached up, threading through the bangs that hung on his forehead, gripping at them painfully. Mello's request played across his mind, the anguish laced in his words striking a rarely played cord in his heart. _'You know I can't…'_

A voice cut into his decision making, a memory from one of the first times Mello had met with him after taking Michael from Wammy's, _'He could still be your successor without you having to cut yourself off from him.'_ Mello had tried to tell him.

Near's body went rigid, his hands clenching around his strands of hair even tighter.

"Sir?" Rester finally spoke up, breaking the room's stillness.

"Let's go, Rester." Near said in an exhale, his voice surprisingly composed considering the tumultuous environment inside him, "There's something I need to take care of, now. Gevanni, monitor the situation and contact us if anything more happens."

The commander stuttered, momentarily confused, "What, where? What about Kira?"

"Kira will be dealt with, of course. We've been assured of that much." He started towards the exit to the room, "But we've also been given another responsibility; one which only logically must take precedence even over Kira for just a few moments." Rester followed without further questioning of Near's vague explanation.

Naturally the young genius knew where Mello would set up residence at. Using his keen investigative skills alone it wouldn't have been difficult to narrow the range of neighborhood possibilities down based solely on level of crime and proportional gang affiliation to the rest of the resident. But it had always seemed hardly important enough to Near to go through that much effort when it was simpler to just trace the phone calls Mello made back to one specific location.

The ride to Mello's apartment was left to the quiet and strain of the unanswered questions that struggled beneath the weight of Near's conscience which was still trying to completely understand this new reality as well as how the events before it all factored into it.

As the car came to a stop in front of the dull, three-story apartment building, Near's anxiety immediately welled within his stomach in such a way that he'd never fully experienced before. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't had total control over the situations he freely walked into; that knowledge put him on edge.

"Come with me." He ordered, staring at the building's façade as he opened the car door and stepped out. A familiar mocking voice in the back of his head said that bringing Rester was a rather childish move, but Near justified it as wanting Rester there for protection's sake alone.

As they made their way into the building and climbed the steps up the dark stairwell, Near's breath caught in his throat as the questions began flooding his mind again, needing answered and demanding to be worked through immediately. What was he going do? What was the right thing to do? What if…

"Stay here." Near said when they reached the door of the apartment he'd previously traced the calls back to; Rester nodded as the younger carefully tested the handle of the front door, holding his breath as he did so, though ultimately finding it had been left unlocked. _'How irresponsible of you, Mello._' Near couldn't help chiding while his thoughts fought to make him consider how many times Mello had practically begged for this moment to happen. How long had that impulsive, passionate, hellish blonde wished to be able to see this occasion?

Near pushed the open the door, one pervasive thought overshadowing all the others, _'This wasn't how things were supposed to happen, Mello.'_

Inside, the apartment was darkened, only a few of the lights having been left on, though immediately Near's gray perceptive eyes fell on the small boy sitting on the floor around the center of the room, the toys Near remembered acquiescing to Mello scattered around him.

Gray eyes met mirrored gray puzzled, sorrowful orbs. As he watched the young child, Michael, their son, stand up, Near felt as though his heart had suddenly ceased beating; this being the first time he'd ever laid eyes on the child he'd conceived, nourished, and then abandoned.

The wispy, light blonde hair fell around his head, onto his pale forehead, reminding Near of Mello's own golden bangs, though the shade was obviously lighter. As Michael stood fumbling with the end of the black shirt he wore, it felt as though Near was not looking at their child, but at Mello himself when he was a child.

He cursed Mello for how foolish he'd been to try and say that Michael looked like anyone other than his father.

"Um…" Michael's quiet voice spoke up, taking Near's thoughts away from his painful musings, "My daddy told me that if I wait here like a good boy, then my mama would come an' get me." He explained, looking down at the floor then up again at Near, "So… are you my mama?"

Near swallowed, trying not to cringe at how misplaced the title sounded in reference to him. For the first time in his life, however, he found his mind offered him no clear route he should take in this situation. "Yes." He forced out; in the back of his mind knowing that if Mello had been there he would laugh at Near's taut formalism.

But he wasn't there; he'd abandoned Near with a task he'd never feel adequate to do, but likewise decisions he no longer felt objective enough to make.

Michael sniffed, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. "Is my daddy coming back? Did…" his small voice was hushed, afraid, "did Kira get my daddy?"

'_Damn you, Mello. Why? Why would you do this to me? To him!'_ What was the proper response to the boy's questions? Lying was the obvious choice that stuck out, but it didn't seem to be very advantageous in the long run. But at the same time Near figured societal norms would dictate that the honest route would be too harsh for a boy Michael's age.

"There was nothing…" He stopped himself, his thoughts running away with the question of who was actually to blame here. "I'm sorry." What else could he say? Everything felt wrong on his lips, but as he watched the tears begin to well in the young boy's eyes, something told him that anything he could have found to say would have brought about the same reaction.

Near's heart constricted in his chest as he watched the hot tears begin falling from Michael's eyes and down quickly flushing cheeks, but still he was fixed in place, petrified by his own ignorance and the new crippling sense of failure.

Watching Michael made a thought he hadn't even realized he'd buried away begin to raise to the surface. Perhaps he should have done things different, should have preemptively acted, should have stopped this before Mello's foolishness had had a chance to reach this level. But more than that, he should have never let his own agenda dictate whether this boy, the innocence caught in the crossfire, got to keep his father or not. He shouldn't have coerced Mello to leave when he'd known…

In their last moments Mello had begged Near to just be human for one singular moment; to have a heart and a single act of compassion. But Near had thrown it away. When Mello had come to him, when Near had had a chance to solve all the world's problems –his own and Mello's, he hadn't been able to stop playing the game.

"Michael…" Near exhaled as the crying intensified, and suddenly the young boy ran forward, hugging Near's legs in a dire struggle to find solace he needed within Near.

The icy successor swallowed once more, one hand grabbing at his hair in his own need for comforting, the other hesitantly reached out and pet Michael's locks, as if his uncertainty would only further break the child. He continued stroking Michael's soft locks of blonde hair, closing his eyes momentarily to attempt to sort out the doubts flooding his mind.

For as iced over as it was, Near's heart still possessed enough warmth to know he couldn't abandon Michael back at Wammy's again. Not after this; after what the boy had been subjected to at his parents' hands.

Near didn't ever make promises he knew he couldn't keep, but as Michael clung to him in tears Near heard himself mentally swear to never return him back to Wammy's. _'This isn't for you, Mello.'_ He mentally affirmed. _'Even in your death I attest that you have taken far too much from me to warrant asking this of me, as well.'_

No, he'd find a way to keep Michael with him, for his son's own benefit. In a dark corner of his mind, he simultaneously worked to lock away his own painful justification so that he would ideally never be able to openly relive his guilt. If there was ever to be one crucial mistake Near could write onto his life, it would be what he had allowed to happen to Mello; he told himself that as far as he could keep it, he would make sure Michael never learned of this one fault that had taken his father away.

His eyes slipped open, looking down at Michael while letting his fingers twirl the short locks of the boy's hair around his digits; the action meant to calm the grieving child. "It'll be fine, Michael. Everything will be alright. I promise."

* * *

><p>AN: So there you have it. The would-be ending (but not) to this story. Again, there is one more chapter to this, at least. And then possibly a sequel depending on the votes that the poll on my profile gets (or the comments on the poll on my Tumblr, if you follow that). Anyway, let me know what you think of this! I have a lot of mixed feelings about it, but when don't I, I suppose. So relish in knowing that your opinions always mean a great deal to me! Or something. Next chapter (hopefully) soon depending on when I get my computer fixed…

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


	18. Time

A/N: So, here we are. The end of this arc of the story. I never thought this story would take me three years, but I am glad it's been able to come completely to fruition and have an ending to it. I'm going to keep this short so you can go on and read and see what you think. Please let me know your thoughts, and don't forget about the sequel that's going to be published to this! I expect to see all of you there!

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story. Except Michael

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 18:<span> Time

There's an old established belief which dictates that time, a concept which in itself fundamentally differs depending on one's specific location within the universe, somehow contains all the potentiality to ease a person's suffering in such a way which systematically makes life easier to endure again.

Reflecting on this ideology always reaffirmed how much Near hated the very notion of social norms, because realistically it was not time which fixed things. It was instead the very basic subconscious human desire to survive which pushed one to move throughout their everyday lives, thus situating the following events atop the pain or struggles which caused the aforementioned wounds.

But at the same time, Near acknowledged that perhaps it was his conscious recognition of this truth which prevented him from traversing the levels of healing; a sort of self-induced psychological hindrance which functioned similarly to the way that pondering a drug's effects keeps one from experiencing the effects.

Conversely speaking, however, Near also knew that the dull, residual pain he felt could just as likely be a product of the fact that his life habitually remained stagnant within an altogether progressive world. Naturally he continued to serve his purpose by working on cases, which perpetually shifted their theme from one to the next, but his physical surroundings were never forced to change. He remained confined within the old SPK headquarter building in New York, or as it was currently addressed, the new operations for L. He was increasingly beginning to see this building as nothing more than a fierce black hole whose gravitational pull swallowed up all traces of light and time itself.

Near looked up from his enclosure of assorted toys which had been haphazardly scattered amongst the papers and photographs which detailed the case he was currently working on. The sun was just beginning to set, submerging the city into a bath of vivid blue and orange shades. The young detective's body grew tense as the once smoldering embers residing at the edge of his thoughts were resurrected, burning him with the images which repeatedly kept him awake night after night.

A mental calendar then flashed before his eyes, displaying today's date in an intolerable hue of red. It had been just over a year since Mello's death at the hands of both Kira and their own folly. On the surface, a year seemed to be a long time, yet in the scheme of things it proved to be only a blink of an eye to the amount of time and trials needed in order to adjust to this style of life which was utterly incongruous with the rest of Near's existence. The more he thought about how long it'd been, about how haunted he still felt by emotions of guilt and inadequacy, he began to consider that even an entire lifetime would never have prepared him to deal with these situations he faced.

His dark eyes drifted from the early evening sky over to Michael who sat a few feet away from him, contentedly playing with the toys which were in front of him and his bear, Henry, who remained faithfully by his side.

A year since Michael's father's death...

And what had Near done in observance of the morbid occasion?

Nothing.

He'd consciously known that the intrinsically ethical thing to do would be to spend that day with Michael, to perhaps answer some of the endless questions the boy always had, or tell him stories of Mello if Michael wanted to hear them. But Near hadn't been able to justify doing any of that when there were cases which demanded his attention, expecting him to solve them. Why should he spend one day focusing on the anniversary of one being's death when that momentary pause could be sealing the contract of someone else sharing that same death day? Was it not more empathetic to spare others of the same pain?

It seemed the more rational course of action, but now he was left to wonder whether or not Michael even realized how long it'd been? Did he know it'd been an entire year since everything happened? Did he wonder why Near hadn't been around for it, for him?

Even as his heart constricted in his chest, his mind continued to justify the actions. This contradiction within himself revived his masochistic curiosity of how well Michael was actually being raised in this lifestyle; with a guardian as cold as he was, lacking Mello's influence of a warm blanket against Near's ice.

After all, Mello had always been the heart, Near the mind, to their perplexing, ethereal body of an existence. So then what sort of life, personality, and worldview was Near sowing for Michael by not properly cultivating the heart Mello which had so graciously bestowed in him?

"You should probably be going to bed soon, Michael." Near said, pushing his speculations back within their chest with the promise that he would analyze each of them individually when given time.

Michael looked up, his gray eyes reflecting the light from the sunset in such a way that made it impossible for Near to recognize the pure orbs as having come from his own. "But I'm not tired!" Michael complained. "Plus, the soldiers haven't even saved the day from the alien attack yet!" To emphasize his point his small hands stole up one of the alien action figure from Near's group of toys, holding it up for the detective to see.

Near's eyes narrowed, plucking the figure from Michael's grasp and replacing it back in its respectable place on his visual map. Near relented, "I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to make you end things before the world has been saved... Fine. But not too long."

Michael's lips rose up into a smile, "Yeah, okay!" He replied with a nod as his gray eyes moved back to the action figures he'd been playing with. Near watched interestedly as only a moment later Michael's bright, innocent smile began to dim, he looked back up at Near. "Why did Kira take my daddy?"

Near sighed, repenting having even wondered what was on the child's mind. Michael and him may have been biologically related, but it consistently seemed as though the only thing the two of them shared was their tie to the blonde successor. This too always made Near wonder if that suspicion was a result of his social short comings -his inability to widen his scope to actually relate to someone else and thus help Michael grow more; past what Mello had already given him.

But regardless of his suspicions, what was he supposed to tell Michael now?

"Why do you ask?" He heard himself say, followed by mental protests berating him on how illogical of a question it was to put forth. He hushed the criticisms by claiming it gave him more time to think about how best to approach the topic.

Michael looked down, adjusting the arms of one of the action figures he was holding. "Well, Kira was bad, but he was supposed to kill only bad people. But my daddy wasn't a bad person, right? Wouldn't that make you a bad person too, Mama?"

Near held back his instinctive cringe as he responded, "That's quite perceptive of you. But things aren't that black and white; the world is never really that clear cut."

"What do you mean?"

"Law and justice are very subjective ideas, Michael, which very often fluctuate in interpretation depending on who you're talking to." Near paused, meeting Michael's large curious stare which was trying hard to understand what his mother was explaining. Near exhaled, "What I mean is that no, Mello and I are not bad people, though again I suppose the judgment of our character is really up for interpretation, too."

"Mama..." Michael's quiet voice brought Near back down from his thoughts of ethics and morality.

"Let me try again," he reached up to twist a lock of hair but shifted his body down closer to the floor, taking his toys and setting them up differently, now with two figures against the alien figure Michael had been taking from him, "Kira was a criminal, and thus a very bad person who needed to be brought to justice." His eyes followed the alien as he moved it, then shifted to the other two figurines, "But it's because he was a criminal that he saw everyone who was against him as being the bad people, therefore explaining the reasoning behind the actions he decided to take against not only Mello, but countless others." With a flick of his fingers one of the figures who'd opposed the alien was knocked over onto the smooth tile floor.

Near felt his thoughts beginning to trail away, shifting back into the old Kira case file. He exhaled, pulling himself back up into a sitting position and looking over to Michael who he found with pursed his lips, playing with his toys again and completely ignoring Near's demonstration. The expression on his face showed he was still within contemplation of their topic. "Did you love Daddy?" The small boy finally asked.

Near's look contorted into a puzzled stare, "I can't answer that." He said, careful with how he ordered his words.

"Why?"

"Love is a very fickle emotion, and not a quality which can be reliably associated with things. I told you, the world is not black and white. Things are not just one way or another, they are constantly changing." Near tried to explain, "It's just not a good word to use."

Michael huffed, "That's what Daddy said too." He reached over and again took Near's alien action figure, setting it up to fight his soldiers.

"Did he?" Near asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yep. He took me to the park once. I love the park! But, yeah, he told me I could ask anything, so I asked if he loved you, but then he didn't really give me an answer to that. Or any of my questions, really. He didn't even tell me why the sky was gray!" Michael explained with a shrug.

Near nodded, reaching over again to take back his toy, "Somehow I'm not surprised." He explained, "Mello was never really very good at being decisive. Well... not about those sorts of matters anyway." He brought the alien figure up closer to his face for inspection, observing the carefully formed plastic. "It's probably better that he didn't give many answers, though. Vagueness allows one to project any sort of answer they want to find so long as they have reasonable justification to back it up, of course." Near said aloud, though now more to himself than for Michael.

The young boy gave a sigh, "I don't understand that, Mama."

Near cracked a small smirk, "I'll explain it to you when you're older."

Michael huffed once more as he stood up and grabbed Henry, "That's what Daddy used to say, too! I'm gonna get my race cars and play with them now."

"Don't take those out when you're going to bed soon, Michael." Near tried to tell him, but the boy was already heading off to his room without an ounce of consideration given to Near's suggestion.

The detective let out an exhale, placing the action figure he'd been observing back standing on the floor in front of him, his dexterous fingers working up the toy as his thoughts began to drift again.

_'Perhaps vagueness was the best course of action.'_ He considered, moving the toy's arms up into a fighting position. _'Michael will never be able to understand that reasoning, considering his short time, and gradually fleeting memory of you, Mello. However, it is very much in your way to try to take the seemingly obscure route whenever you can.'_ His hand wrapped around the action figure, his index and thumb gripped the head. _'You always had a way of trying to be secretive in order to make my life, and my job that much more complicated. Even though I always saw straight through you.'_

The sound of a door sliding open behind him met Near's ears, immediately sending his thoughts into process of elimination mode. His eyes drifted up to the windows in front of him, just as the sun finally descended beneath the buildings, enveloping the once warm room in a familiar, cold shadow. The thud of thick boots upon the tile floor eliminated the majority of the options Near considered; the breath caught in the detective's throat, effectively leaving the moment passing deliberately slow.

But he didn't really need that time to process the remaining options in front of him; his fingers gripped the head of the figurine tight in his clutches.

In the end there only ever was one answer.

Michael's voice broke the perpetually screaming silence in Near's mind. "Daddy!"

_The End_

* * *

><p>AN: Well... there you go. That's it. That's the end of it! Three years in the making has all led up to this moment. I'm not going to say much because I'm actually pretty scared/worried about the reaction this is going to raised in everyone, but I do want to say thank you to everyone who is still here, who is still reading, who reviewed, favorited, or did anything else for this story. You have no idea how much everything you guys have done has meant to me. This story has honestly been my favorite I've ever put out because of the sheer deepness of it, and I am so excited to get started on the sequel so it can even further develop from here! So, alert me or this story and the sequel will be up soon! Also, let me know your thoughts also, of course!

**Sequel Update!:** Originally I had another chapter up about the sequel being published, but for various self-conscious reasons I've taken it down now in favor of just telling everyone here. The sequel to this story HAS been posted! The title is: The Topology of Compassion. So, go check that out to find out what happens next in this tale!

Please review  
><em>-Forbiddensoul562<em>


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